The Third Lieutenant's Lady
by frustratedstudent
Summary: The mission to chase the Acheron turns interesting for Peter Calamy when an old friend, Miss Victoria Hastings, comes along for an intelligence mission of her own.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Disclaimer: The characters, the HMS Surprise, the Acheron, and most of the plot belong to Patrick O'Brian, and are inspired on Peter Weir's adaptation in the movie. The only characters I own are Victoria, her father, and a few agents._

_I messed around with Peter Calamy's age in this story. It's not really given in the movie how old he actually he is, but he is implied to be about seventeen or so if Captain Aubrey made him an acting lieutenant. So I decided to make him a little older here, at least old enough to be legitimately promoted to a lieutenant. _

**THE THIRD LIEUTENANT'S LADY**

**Chapter 1: Itinerant**

Even with war looming over the horizon, nothing could stop the hustle and bustle of Portsmouth. The morning of the 1st of March was no exception, especially for the new 3rd lieutenant of the HMS Surprise.

"_Of all people to find in Portsmouth," _Peter Miles Calamy thought as he knocked on the door of a rather snug inn. He glanced back over his shoulder, just to check that the "Blue Peter" flag was not yet being hoisted over the HMS Surprise. He sighed with relief, happy to not have to rush all the way back to the frigate's quarterdeck.

In his reverie, he almost did not hear the inn door open. "Who are you looking for, Sir?" a maid's nervous voice asked.

Peter stood up straighter. "For Miss Victoria Hastings. Is she still here?"

The maid glanced over her shoulder. "I think she is upstairs, Sir. Shall I call her?"

"There is no need to call me," a clear voice said from inside the inn. A slender young woman made her appearance in the front hall. A straw hat covered her raven hair, and she had on a simple blue muslin dress. A long scar ran from the corner of her right eye, across her nose, and over to her left cheek.

The lieutenant bowed by way of greeting. "Miss Hastings. I was worried you'd already left Portsmouth." He was accustomed to his friend's sudden absences; Victoria had a habit of leaving England, and suddenly turning up someplace in the Mediterranean or Africa-and usually in the thick of some operation or conflict. Peter had begun to suspect that Miss Hastings was in the employ of Sir Joseph Blaine, or someone in that secretive institution known as the British intelligence. Of course, there was no way that Victoria would ascertain that fact, at least to his face.

"You didn't hear of my coming but you heard of my going," Victoria said lightly. Her dark eyes were merry as she walked up to Peter. "But it's still a good thing you're here, Mr. Calamy. I never got to congratulate you on your promotion."

Peter felt the heat rush to his face at these words. "Thank you, Miss Hastings. Just so you know, I'm sailing aboard the HMS Surprise, still under Captain Aubrey. I've already put my belongings aboard."

"I knew he wouldn't let you go to another ship, not when you were one of the best mids he had," Victoria said.

"That is flattery, Miss Hastings," he said, half-gratefully, half-reprovingly.

Her lips curved upwards in a wryly amused smile as she looked him in the eye. "It might interest you to know that I'm working with Dr. Maturin. He has asked me to accompany him."

The mention of the Surprise's surgeon nearly made Peter start. "Accompany him? Aboard the Surprise?" he asked, not hiding his disbelief. "What for?"

"Well, where else? As to what for, well I'd tell you but the Doctor would hang me by my heels if I did. " Victoria replied with a shrug. "I heard that the Surprise is bound for beyond the Horn."

"You might say that," Peter said. He was not privy to the Surprise's actual destination; usually Captain Aubrey did not divulge the full details of these voyages until the ship was underway. However he knew that the mission would take the Surprise into the Pacific, perhaps to harry any French elements that were causing trouble there. "It's the furthest you will have ever been away from home."

"Where _is_ home anyway, Mr. Calamy?" Victoria said. "I'll tell you more about it while we get my things on board the ship."

"I forgot, you always say you're itinerant," Peter quipped. He went inside the inn to help Victoria lug out a sea chest that she had apparently set aside earlier in the day. "So where is your family?"

"Mother is _supposed_ to be in Boston, Father was said to be in Malta, but you never know with him. If it wasn't for the inconvenient quarrels with my aunts and uncles, I should have stayed with them," Victoria said as they headed towards the dock, carrying her sea chest between them. "And how's your mother doing?"

"Very well, though of course she jokes that I have yet to bring her back a daughter-in-law to help her manage the land," Peter replied.

"You're only nineteen, Mr. Calamy. Surely she can wait two years or so," Victoria said. "At least till you make post captain."

"If peace doesn't break out," Peter joked back. He smiled on seeing the frigate in the harbour. "Well here we are. Home for the coming months."

Even though the HMS Surprise was derided as 'old' and 'antiquated' by some officers in the service, in Peter's opinion the frigate was one of the best-looking and swiftest ships he'd ever served on. It also helped that the 'Joyful Surprise', as the ship was now being nicknamed, was run by a rather well-drilled crew that had been serving together for some time now. In fact Peter had known some of the officers and able seamen since he had first been transferred there at the age of fourteen. As far as he was concerned, it was an honor for him to return to the Surprise as a lieutenant, not merely as a midshipman.

"Mr. Calamy, Miss Hastings!" a voice called. Peter looked up to see Captain Jack Aubrey and Dr. Stephen Maturin standing at the quarterdeck. Peter saluted while Victoria bowed slightly before they hurried up to the deck.

"Good morning Captain Aubrey. It's been some time," Victoria greeted.

Captain Aubrey nodded. "The last time you were aboard the Surprise, your father was still stationed at Gibraltar. I heard he's at Malta?"

"As of his last letter, Sir," Victoria replied.

"I was about to send Padeen to fetch you, Miss Hastings," Dr. Maturin informed them. "Did you bring the books I requested for?"

"They're in the chest, Doctor," Victoria said, dropping her voice slightly.

"Stephen, do you mind helping Miss Hastings with her belongings? I believe her berth will be next to yours," Captain Aubrey said. "Mr. Calamy, could you go to the hold and make sure that the gunner has already stowed the shot and powder? You might find Mr. Pullings there too; send word that I wish to speak to him on the quarterdeck."

"Aye Sir," Peter replied. He noticed that Victoria and Dr. Maturin had already vanished below decks. "_Wouldn't do to seem too familiar with her anyway," _he decided. A number of the hands, such as Captain Aubrey's coxswain Bonden, were already acquainted with Victoria, and would know better than to pass any rumors concerning the girl. He could not ascertain the same though for some of the other seamen, who were wont to enjoy a new intrigue especially when it concerned someone with a skirt.

As he went down into the hold, he caught sight of the first lieutenant, Tom Pullings, conferring with the purser and the other hands set to stocking the hold with numerous barrels of provisions. "Captain is asking for you on the quarterdeck, Mr. Pullings," he said as he touched his hat, out of force of habit.

Pullings looked at Peter. "We'll set sail soon?"

"I believe so," Peter replied.

Pullings' glance flicked towards the ceiling. "Is it me, or did I hear a woman's voice onboard?"

"It's just Miss Hastings," Peter replied. "She's apparently accompanying the doctor."

Pullings bit his lip, clearly not wishing to inquire too much into the matter. "The midshipmen have already come aboard. Mr. Blakeney is asking for you," he said as he headed to the ladder.

"I'll make sure to find him," Peter replied, nodding at the mention of his old friend. It only seemed like yesterday when he had been a young boy in England, trying not to regale an even younger William Blakeney with _too_ many stories about the life at sea. He wondered if Will's mother would ever forgive him for 'putting ideas in her boy's head'. Then again, Will's father was a friend of Captain Aubrey; it only seemed natural that the younger Lord Blakeney would choose to follow in his footsteps.

After concluding his inspection in the cramped and rather stuffy hold, Peter made his way back to the decidedly more airy quarterdeck. As he was about to climb up a last ladder, he caught sight of a small figure running up, dressed in a midshipman's uniform. "Peter! Am I glad to see you!" young William Blakeney said cheerily, managing a clumsy sort of salute.

"So am I. But remember, it has to be Mr. Calamy on this ship, Mr. Blakeney," Peter said cordially, though he had to emphasize the last part of this greeting.

Will nodded, instantly adopting a more sober demeanor. "My mother wouldn't have let me go at first; she said South America was too far. But my uncles said that Captain Aubrey's got the best quarterdeck I can ask for," he said.

"They have it right," Peter replied as they arrived on the quarterdeck. At that moment, Mr. William Mowett, the second lieutenant, was already hoisting the infamous Blue Peter flag. This was the signal for any hands left on shore to hurry back to the ship, which would soon weigh anchor. The forecastle was abuzz with men hurrying aboard with their belongings; a few minor debates as to berths, and of course, the men of the watch doing their duties.

Will wheeled around as a step sounded on the ladder. "Miss Victoria!"

"Will Blakeney!" Victoria greeted. It was all that Peter could do not to laugh as the girl caught the midshipman in a hug. "Of all places, here!"

"Good thing you and Peter—I mean, Mr. Calamy, are here on my first trip," Will said, a little flustered at his friend's enthusiastic greeting. "But what are you doing here?"

"Helping the doctor."

"As a nurse?"

"No, as a fellow scholar." Victoria laughed at Will's quizzical expression. "You should try to talk to him some time; he knows an awful lot about birds and beasts."

Peter decided to leave his two friends to their conversation as he went to see to the other goings-on at the deck. At length he heard Captain Aubrey give the order; men took their places at the capstan or headed aloft to spread the sails. Peter went to supervise the men unfurling the sails; since the midshipmen were mostly newcomers, they could not be expected to do their duties yet in the tops. He allowed himself a last glance at the dock, where some relatives of his shipmates had gathered. He did not even have to strain for a glimpse of white cambric to know that there were tears being shed in this throng.

"_Mother wouldn't have wanted to be here," _he thought. He was grateful that his mother had chosen to stay in Sussex instead of accompanying him to Portsmouth. It would not have done for the poor woman to be emotional at her only son's most recent departure, and besides, the reappearance of Victoria Hastings would have certainly caused some conjecture.

The breeze whipped up, bringing the invigorating smell of the sea with it. Peter took a deep breath, letting it invigorate him. It was good to finally be home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Phantom**

Victoria was no stranger to shipboard life. Ever since she was about twelve years old, she'd spent a good part of her life on warships, either in the care of her father or being shuttled off to some unwilling relative of hers. In fact, she had realized that since her first trip to Gibraltar, she had never occupied any house longer for than half a year at a time. "_Not that I object," _she thought one day as she brought up her sewing basket to the quarterdeck.

It was as good a day as she could ask for after seven weeks at sea. As of noon, they were sailing off the coast of Brazil, taking advantage of the brisk wind that had started this morning. Victoria drew her green shawl more tightly around her shoulders as she mended one of the cabin boys' shirts. It was one of the jobs she was all too willing to do; for now the sickbay was quiet and not in much need of constant attending. As for the 'books' that she had brought aboard, Victoria had studied them thoroughly; they could not be updated until new information came from whatever English agents she and Dr. Maturin could hope to meet on this mission. "_I may very well be idle till we get to the Horn, "_she mused as she tied off a knot. Once the Surprise got to the Galapagos, Victoria hoped to get news from the whalers, in hopes of relaying this sort of reconnaissance back to England.

At any rate this relative lack of activity gave her a great deal of time to watch the crew of the HMS Surprise at work. She knew that this ship was quite unlike others of its sort in the service, and she was curious to see how Captain Aubrey managed his men without having to rig up a grating or start them. As she picked up another shirt to stitch up, she heard a bell ring, signalling the beginning of the next watch.

"You okay there Miss Hastings?" a voice asked.

Victoria nodded at Awkward Davies, who was easily one of the biggest and most intimidating men she'd met. "No one's bothering me up here."

Davies laughed in a low voice before heading below decks. Victoria frowned at the sight of his half-finished tattoo of a chain. She honestly wasn't sure what to make of the talk that each link represented a man he had killed. Shaking her head to clear it of morbid thoughts, she glanced towards where the coxswain Barret Bonden was at the wheel, then towards where Faster Doudle and Joseph Nagle, two more of the foremast jacks, were at work on the gangway.

Up on the rigging were two of the midshipmen, Stephen Boyle and Dick Williamson. From what Victoria gathered, these two were on their second voyage aboard the Surprise, but they still managed to keep up their incessant pranks and joking. Even now the two were larking about with some of the ship's boys. Victoria rolled her eyes at this before looking around to see who the midshipman in charge of the watch was.

Her gaze fell on a slender, rather nervous figure pacing about on the gangway, clutching a spyglass. "_Poor Hollom," _she couldn't help thinking. The man had to be at least five-and-twenty, but had failed to pass for lieutenant. Victoria was sure that Hollom's spirits weren't buoyed in the least by any comparisons made between him and the Surprise's third lieutenant.

She looked up at the sound of someone stepping onto the quarterdeck. "Couldn't stand being indoors, Miss Hastings?" Peter greeted as he stood near her.

"I need the light," Victoria replied, motioning for him to get out of the way.

"My apologies," Peter said, stepping to the side. "Seven weeks at sea, and no sign of the Acheron. We should have caught up with her by now."

"Maybe she got detained by a storm. We've had a little rain," Victoria suggested.

"A little water doesn't lay up a man-of-war," Peter remarked. Suddenly the faint sound of a bell pierced the quiet. "That's odd."

"It came from that direction," Victoria noted, pointing towards where Slade and some of the hands were conversing, having also heard this unusual sound. Hollom nervously strode over to inquire.

Peter gritted his teeth at this. "He's going to take a dickens of a time at it. Excuse me for a bit, Miss Hastings," he said before going to the gangway. He paused to wake up Will, who had fallen asleep someplace there, before proceeding to confer with Hollom.

Victoria sighed, knowing better than to detain her friend when he was supposed to be at work. "_In other days, maybe..."_ she thought as she leaned over to try to eavesdrop. She could not hear snatches of this conversation, but judging by Peter's gestures, it did not seem to bode well. She slipped to the edge of the quarterdeck, in time to hear something along the lines of "I can't be sure" followed by, "Hollom, you must make a decision!" After a few moments, Peter turned to the crew and yelled, "We shall beat to quarters!"

It was as if the ship turned into a beehive. One of the Marines stationed on deck began to sound the drumroll as the men hurried to their posts. Victoria threw her work into the sewing basket before hurrying to the sick bay. She knew this was no time for gaping and inquiring the situation out of the officers; the last time she'd done this aboard her father's ship, she'd nearly lost an eye.

Dr. Maturin and his assistant Higgins had already prepared a table for the operations they were sure to be making. "Pour some sand on the floor, Miss Hastings," Dr. Maturin ordered as she came in.

Victoria found the bag of sand by the door and began to strew some of its contents about. "I wish we'd gotten more information about the Acheron itself, and not just about the papers she's supposed to be carrying."

"We do know she's closer to a frigate than a ship of the line," Dr. Maturin said. "So they just spotted her?"

"I don't know," Victoria replied. She hadn't thought to ask Peter or Hollom before going below. She reached for a dirty white apron and had just managed to tie it over her dress when a deafening roar shook the ship.

Higgins swore as he grabbed onto the table, while Dr. Maturin managed to keep his footing. "Any moment now," the Irishman said. Seconds later several men trooped into the sickbay, carrying in some wounded companions.

Victoria felt her stomach lurch at the stench of blood that suddenly filled the sickbay. "_Not now, not now," _she begged silently as she set about to cutting and rolling bandages. Now and then she was called to pass something to the doctor, while Higgins was asked to help the patients to their hammocks. She could hear footsteps and shouts on deck, and soon the rumbling of the Surprise's cannons being put into position. She braced herself for the deafening blast that would accompany the volley, but instead of this, she felt the floor shake as once again the Surprise was fired on.

"It doesn't look good," Higgins mouthed as a third round of cannon fire went into the Surprise. Victoria glanced over in time to see two of the men bring in Tom, who had wounds all over his head and arms.

"Can you sit here, Mr. Pullings?" Dr. Maturin said, looking up from another moaning patient.

Pullings winced. "They won't let us get a shot in edgewise."

"You've got splinters all over, Sir," Victoria said. She grabbed the smallest pair of tongs on hand to begin removing the offending wood pieces from the lieutenant's arm. She sighed with relief as she heard the Surprise's guns firing on the uproll. By the time she was through, yet another round of patients had entered the sickbay.

"They're getting us with a lot of grapeshot," Pullings said through gritted teeth. The exchanges of cannon fire were almost continuous now. "She's a formidable one. Our shots were actually bouncing off the hull."

"How is that possible?" Victoria mouthed to Dr. Maturin, who merely shrugged. The sickbay door swung open again, this time admitting Will. His right arm now seemed oddly deformed, in addition to having huge splinters sticking out of it.

"Something big slammed into me at the quarterdeck," the midshipman said, obviously trying not to cry as Higgins brought him to the table.

Victoria touched his hair to soothe him. "We'll get you fixed up, Will," she said, cutting away his jacket. She held him still as Dr. Maturin began to remove the splinters.

Pullings cocked his ear. "We've opened up a seam. I can hear the water."

Victoria swallowed hard as she heard the sound of rushing water over the frantic calls of Mr. Lamb and his team working below. "They're not going to let us sink," she said firmly to Will.

"I know. But this arm..." Will murmured.

"Don't you worry about it," Victoria retorted more firmly. "Where's Peter?"

"In charge at the gun deck," Will replied.

Victoria breathed a sigh of relief. Peter was in a perilous place, but it wasn't the first time this had happened to him. "You just rest now," she said to Will.

Dr. Maturin looked around. "Why are we not firing?" he asked.

Pullings had noticed this as well. "Let me through," he said, getting to his feet and making his way out of sickbay.

"Lucky Jack won't strike the colors, I know," Higgins muttered.

"Never," Victoria agreed. "He'd have to literally go down first."

Footsteps sounded on the ladder. "We need any hands that can row!" Mr. Hollar, the bosun, bellowed into the sick bay.

"What's happening?" Victoria asked.

"We're towing the Surprise into the fog!"

Dr. Maturin nodded to Higgins. "You go. You're bigger than Miss Hastings."

Victoria gave the doctor a withering look. "I used to help out in my father's cutter."

"On a more leisurely venture, Miss Hastings, and certainly without a frigate trailing behind you," Dr. Maturin said reprovingly. "If we're being towed, that can mean we've lost our sails or our rudder."

"_We're lucky to escape then," _she thought as she continued to help bandage up some patients. Her hands were shaking by the time she was finished with her work, prompting her to ask Dr. Maturin if she could step out for a breath of fresh air.

Everything was foggy when she got to the quarterdeck. She saw Pullings motion for her to be silent. "We're hiding from the Acheron," he said in an undertone.

"_How did she find us?" _she wondered. She went to the rail and caught sight of the Surprise's boats, waiting to tow the ship again at any signal. She could barely catch sight of her friends as they sat waiting to give, or receive orders. In the distance she could hear the enemy ship still firing, but growing increasingly far away from the Surprise.

It was dark by the time the men began returning the boats to the ship. "That was a close one," Victoria said to Peter as she reached out to helphim aboard onto the gangway.

"You're telling me," Peter said hoarsely, half-leaning on her. He was obviously exhausted from the battle and rowing the boat. "Will was hurt. How is he?"

"Broken arm," Victoria said. She brushed away a streak of scarlet on Peter's face. "You're bleeding!"

"A scrape only," Peter reassured her. "What about you?"

"Shaken up but nothing more," she replied. "You get some drink into you, and some food as well, Mr. Calamy. I'll take you to see Will after the Captain makes his um...rounds."

Peter nodded. "That ship was like a phantom. Came nearly out of nowhere."

"Did it? No wonder it seemed so swift. And the hull...I heard that it was nearly impervious."

"Almost none of the shot went in. I've never seen anything like it."

"Mr. Calamy, to the Great Cabin if you please," Mowett called. "Miss Hastings, the captain wishes to speak to you."

Victoria went to the taffrail, where Captain Aubrey was helping the last of the men back onto the deck. "You sent for me, Sir?"

"Is the doctor busy at present?" Captain Aubrey asked.

"I do not think so."

Captain Aubrey nodded. "Thank you for your help. I'm sorry, you must dine alone tonight in the gunroom, or join the midshipmen; I have to speak with my officers."

"I understand," Victoria said. Normally she had supper with the lieutenants and the warrant officers in the gunroom while Captain Aubrey and Dr. Maturin had their nightly music session. As soon as everyone was aboard, she went to her quarters to pass a little time before any attempt at dinner was to be made.

The berth she'd been given was nothing more than a tiny cubicle just large enough for a hammock and a sea chest. It was really more for her privacy than for actual comfort. Right now, the books she'd left in her hammock were tossed out and lying in a heap on the floor. Victoria quickly picked these up, but began to peruse their contents instead of returning them to the sea chest.

Somewhere in the pages was a list of names as well as possible locations. "_What wouldn't I give to have eyes everywhere," _Victoria thought as she placed a light mark opposite the names of the agents who were too far away to have given the location of the Surprise to any French forces. She bit her lip on seeing that the list was still rather long despite her efforts at deduction.

"_Who sold us out?" _she wondered as she tossed the book into the sea chest. Perhaps she would have a word or two with Dr. Maturin about this matter, as soon as the sickbay was freed up a little.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! _

**Chapter 3: Not Going Home**

Normally dinner at the Great Cabin was a merry affair, with much to drink and an even greater abundance of jokes and jibes. However tonight, none of the officers present could talk about anything except how the Surprise was very nearly lost, and how they were to refit.

"If we can make for Jamaica, we should be fine," Mowett mused.

"That's a week away. With a few basic repairs we can bear up till then," Peter chimed in. Of course he knew he was just being optimistic; it would take at least a week to repair the frigate.

"From there, then on home-" the sailing master Mr. Allen began.

Captain Aubrey put his hands down on the table. "We're not going home."

This announcement produced a stunned silence in the cabin. "_Dear God, he really means it," _Peter thought as he looked down at the table.

"But to refit, we need a port, and the Acheron may still be looking for us," Mr. Allen said at last.

"We can refit at sea. Here, where it shoals," Captain Aubrey said, pointing to a spot on the map.

Peter leaned over to take a look at the place marked 'dangerous shoals'. While it was not unheard of for a captain to use shallow water in this manner, it was certainly a little unsafe.

"As you said, Mr. Allen, she is taking the war to the South Seas, and we are supposed to stop her," Captain Aubrey said.

"But sir, with respect, she's a vastly heavier ship. She's out of our class," Mr. Allen protested. "She could be halfway to Cape Horn by the time we're repaired."

A smile spread over Captain Aubrey's face. "Well then, there's not a moment to lose."

"We'll work even at night?" Peter asked.

"We'll do what we can, like the seams and some of the work on the gu ndeck. The rigging will have to wait till morning, when there's more light for it," Captain Aubrey replied. "As soon as the hold is drained and sufficiently dry, we'll have to move the provisions and shot back down there."

"_That's going to take some time," _Peter thought. Last time he'd checked, there was still a little under two feet of water in the hold, even with the near-constant creaking of the ship's pump.

Within an hour, dinner was concluded and the officers went either to the night watch or to get some rest before the next day's gruelling work. Peter lost no time in paying a visit to the sickbay, where he found Will dozing fitfully. Victoria was also there, changing the bandages of one of the powder monkeys who had gotten burnt in the attack.

"Hopefully he won't get a fever," Peter mumbled as he found a seat next to his friend's hammock.

"That's hoping for a bit much. You should have seen the wood we drew out of his arm," Victoria said as she put aside a bloodied and tattered bandage. "Higgins did shoddy work of this-not of Will's arm, but of Baker's over here."

"Since when were you a surgeon's mate, Miss Hastings?" Peter asked half-jokingly.

"I don't know. I've had lots of practice aboard my father's ships, and once even on a certain young boy I know from Sussex..."

Peter smirked at the memory. "If it wasn't for _your_ idea of larking about, I wouldn't have sprained my ankle that summer."

"You were the one who had to play the gentleman," Victoria retorted. It had happened about three years previously, during one of Peter's rare shore leaves in England. She had begged him to teach her a bit about sailing, which he was only too glad to do on an improvised rig at a stream near his home. However that adventure had also necessitated being chased by a bull on the way home, a hard knock or two, and a run in with some petty thieves who had been prowling the neighbourhood. After the ensuing melee, Victoria had to half-drag an injured Peter back to his mother's house.

Victoria sighed as she looked at her bedraggled attire. "Good thing I wore my oldest dress today! I don't know how you manage to keep your things so clean."

Peter found himself chuckling at this sudden statement of vanity. Indeed, Victoria was quite a sight, with her blue dress rumpled and stained in some places, and her hair coming out of her braid. "Never mind that. We all are in a state."

"True. It doesn't matter on a man-of-war."

"I should let you know, we're not going back to England, after this," he said more seriously.

"I expected as much," Victoria replied.

"Did you?"

"I've never known the Captain to give up a chase on account of nearly sinking."

"You're correct in your estimation," Peter said. "I'm afraid that tomorrow though, you will have your hands busy with sail-making as well. If Dr. Maturin can spare you."

"He can. I've wanted a little action these past few days-and frankly, with you as a lieutenant and Mr. Blakeney as a midshipman, I've been a little wanting for company," Victoria said. "Oh of course Mr. Hollom is pleasant enough, Mr. Boyle and Mr. Williamson are amiable, the powder monkeys are such dears, and I can talk of course to Mr. Pullings and Mr. Mowett. But you do understand that some of the foremast jacks are suspicious of me, being a woman and all. They say I'll be bad luck," she added more quickly on seeing his concerned expression.

"It's nothing but superstition," Peter pointed out. "You've been sailing on your father's ships for some years now, and nothing's gone awry in his command."

Victoria laughed wryly at this. "My father is a very meticulous _and _cautious man. Not even a Jonah could sink his ships."Her smile turned grim as she glanced at Will's hammock. "The fracture is bad. He may lose the arm, or at least the use of it."

"Dr. Maturin is a capable surgeon. He will make it right," Peter said firmly.

"I never know what to make of your optimism, Mr. Calamy."

Peter chose not to make a retort to this remark, and it was just as well, since Dr. Maturin entered at that moment to shoo him away for disturbing the patients. The words weighed on him when he made a visit to the sickbay at midmorning the next day. He had spent the morning overseeing repairs in the rigging, and later, returning the provisions to a newly dried out hold.

"Delirious, that one is," one of the more recovered foremast hands said, pointing to Will's hammock. The midshipman was drenched in sheen of sweat, and he murmured restlessly in his sleep.

Victoria walked up, carrying with her a book and a wet cloth. "He's been this way since early this morning," she whispered, dropping the wet cloth on Will's hot forehead.

"His arm can't be set?" Peter asked.

"It's terribly infected," Victoria replied, pointing to a sickly greenish coloration on Will's shattered arm.

At that point Will woke up with a start. He blinked before looking at his friends. "Is it true they put the last stitch through your nose?"

Peter leaned in, hoping Will wouldn't strain himself. "What do you mean?"

"Joe said that when you die, they stitch you in your hammock with the last stitch through your nose, just to make sure you're not asleep," Will replied tersely.

"Shhh. Don't mention it. You'll be fine," Victoria said.

"_Please don't have him talking about death," _Peter thought. When men started speaking about dying, that was when things would begin to go bad. He could not bring himself to answer that question and he had to look away for a little bit.

Will took a deep breath before looking at them again. "Not through the nose. You'll tell them?"

Peter nodded as Will shut his eyes tiredly. "You'll be stitching me up in my hammock first," he said more quietly. He looked up as Dr. Maturin entered the sickbay with Padeen and Higgins. "I'd best get going..."

"No, Mr. Calamy. I will need you and Miss Hastings to help me here," the doctor said, motioning for Padeen and Higgins to carefully lift Will and bring him to the table. He filled a dropper with some liquid, which he then dripped between the boy's lips.

Victoria had paled visibly. "Will you be...?"

"Yes, Miss Hastings. Please bring my saws and other implements," Dr. Maturin instructed. As soon as Victoria brought the newly cleaned instruments over, he then set about to clamping Will's injured arm firmly before directing Padeen to hold down the boy's legs, and for Peter and Victoria to restrain Will's head and shoulders. The doctor slipped a leather gag between Will's lips as he began to struggle.

"That's just the laudanum speaking," Dr. Maturin said to the obviously concerned youngsters before beginning to work. The sound of the saw against bone was positively sickening, and Peter was pretty sure that he was going green in the face just from hearing it. Victoria was not much better; she was as white as a sheet even as she tried to distract Will by talking to him in a soft voice.

At last Dr. Maturin reached for a hot spatula to cauterize the stump of Will's arm. "I've never seen a braver patient," he said to the boy, who was now crying with pain as the gag was removed.

"There, there. You'll be fine now," Victoria whispered, going over to bandage the wound before Higgins could get to it.

Dr. Maturin nodded to Peter gratefully. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Calamy. I think Mr. Blakeney should start taking a turn for the better soon, by the time you see him later."

"No, we should be the ones thanking you, Doctor. You saved his life," Peter said. As soon as Will was back in his hammock, he excused himself from the sickbay. He blinked as he came back on deck, hoping to dearly banish the harrowing sights he had just seen.

The repairs were in full swing, even under the blazing sun. Peter noticed Hollom trying to give some orders to a bunch of men doing repairs on the mast. "_Not that way, Hollom!" _he thought impatiently as he saw Mowett step forward to clarify the matter. As this was happening, Peter realized that something was odd about the group working at the foremast-it was clear that the hands there were straining to hear wherever their orders were coming from.

"Mr. Boyle!" Peter called, remembering now which midshipman was in charge of this particular gang. He heard a rather muffled reply, coming from _too _far forward. "_What is he thinking, sitting at the head?" _the lieutenant thought as he went to the forecastle. It took only a quick glance for him to locate a pair of spindly legs in the general area of the frigate's common privy.

"Mr. Boyle! You do not give orders from that area of the ship!" he reprimanded the young boy.

Boyle was red in the cheeks as he emerged, still pulling up his trousers. "I was only caught up short, Mr. Calamy!" he stammered.

"All the same, that is no place to be giving orders. You're likely to get something muddled up if you're not looking strictly at what your men are working on," Peter upbraided him.

Boyle looked down, now thoroughly chastened. "Sorry Sir. It won't happen again."

"Will do," Peter said before letting the midshipman hurry back to his post. He noticed some space was being cleared near the forecastle, apparently for a sort of procedure. "_Ah yes, the doctor is going to trepan Joe Plaice," _he recalled as he returned to his previous business with the repairs.

The trepanning took place almost right after lunch, with a good many of the hands indulging their ghoulish tendencies by watching for some time or another. Despite the harrowing amputation earlier that day, Victoria had steeled herself to assist the doctor again. Peter, being occupied with repairs on the quarterdeck, allowed himself a brief glance or two when he walked by to clarify something with Mr. Lamb. The very sight of Joe Plaice's brains peeping out from an opening in his skull was intriguing to Peter for a moment, at least for the time that he could overcome his natural aversion to being subjected to such operations.

"What is he going to use to cover that hole up?" one of the younger boys asked.

"A large penny. See, the armorer has made it into a dome for that purpose," said Slade, one of the older foremast jacks.

The more inexperienced hands or at least those who had not witnessed a trepanning, oohed and ahhed at this explanation. Peter himself couldn't resist a glance at this. "_One medical miracle after another," _he thought as he watched Dr. Maturin fix the coin to his patient's head.

"How can you stand it, Miss Hastings? All the blood and all," Joseph Nagle said to Victoria as soon as the operation was done.

"I don't stand it, I just...work," Victoria replied, her voice brisk as she cleaned up the work area. It was evident that the experience had shaken her somewhat, judging by her manner. "I've seen a number of surgeries," she added as an afterthought before making her way to the sickbay.

"How the doctor does it, I don't know," Pullings marvelled as he met Peter on the gangway. "Completely undiminished by this pitching and rolling about. But as for the lady-she's had a difficult day, I gather?"

"She assisted with amputating Mr. Blakeney's arm," Peter answered. "They-Mr. Blakeney and Miss Hastings, I mean, were childhood friends, so it was hard for her to see that."

Pullings winced with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. It will be hard on the poor boy, at least till he adjusts to having one arm. He might turn out to be a Nelson yet."

"One can hope so," Peter said. He glanced up at the rigging. "At this rate, might we hope to be underway the day after tomorrow?"

"We can, if the weather holds. Then soon enough we might hope to go home...with an actual prize in tow," Pullings said, clapping Peter lightly on the shoulder before they both headed below to the gunroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: A Warning Take by Me**

The next days passed more easily than the first, with repairs being accomplished more quickly, and more of the crew back on its feet. In fact, things were going so well such that the Captain and Doctor Maturin had resumed their music practice.

"How long have they been playing together?" Will wondered aloud when his friends paid him a visit in the sickbay. His fever was gone now, and he was able to sit up in bed to read.

"Five years, maybe less," Peter replied, raising his voice a little over the music coming from the Great Cabin. "Almost from the first months when Captain Aubrey was the captain of this ship."

"My father said that they met while watching a concert of some sort. I don't know how true that is," Victoria chimed in. She noticed a book in Will's hammock. "What is that about?"

"Lord Nelson. Captain Aubrey gave it to me," Will replied. He glanced at the stump of his arm. "I can learn a lot from him, I guess."

"You may as well learn from the _best_ naval commander in England," Peter mused wistfully.

"Captain Aubrey said he served under Nelson at the Nile," Will said with a smile. "I wonder what stories he's got to tell."

"My father met Nelson a few times," Victoria said. "He has a rather...harsh opinion on some aspects of Nelson's life, but he has respect for his strategies." She stopped there, knowing that it was better not to bring up around these young men the matter of the scandals that had plagued the valiant admiral's life.

The sickbay door swung open. "Mr. Calamy, have you seen Mr. Pullings?" the carpenter, Mr. Lamb asked.

"He's in his berth," Peter replied. "I can rouse him if you wish."

"No need for that. I was just going to tell him that the repairs are all ship-shape, and we can weigh anchor tomorrow, if the Captain wishes it," Mr. Lamb said with a smile.

Victoria could not resist an exclamation of delight on hearing this. "Finally!"

"You won't be so eager, Miss, once we reach the Horn," Mr. Lamb joked.

"Once we get past it you will see me celebrating," Victoria said. "_The better to ferret out those French agents," _she thought. Until the Surprise got in contact with other ships or stopped at some port, there was no way she and Dr. Maturin could advance their intelligence work.

"The next time any one of us is asked to dine with the Captain, that person has to ask about Lord Nelson," Peter suggested.

"You will be asked to that first, I'm sure," Will quipped, grinning widely. "You'd better not forget to tell us what he said!"

"Speak for yourself!" Peter laughed.

Victoria did not hide her laughter as her two friends continued to banter. It was quite a relief to see them in attitudes somewhat like how they'd been in simpler times. This levity continued on to the next day, when the Surprise finally weighed anchor and continued the voyage down the coast of Brazil. The ship was cheerful once again; only a few cosmetic repairs needed to be done, such as work on the Surprise's much battered figurehead. Although old Joe Plaice was still silent after his injury, most of the crew was fully recovered from the battle.

That afternoon, Victoria had taken to reading on the quarterdeck, partly for the fresh air and partly to keep her eye on the powder monkeys playing in the rigging. As she turned a page, she caught sight of Padeen signalling to her.

"What, to go below? Does the Doctor need me?" she asked him. She was aware that he spoke only Gaelic, but she did not trust herself with that tongue.

Padeen nodded agitatedly, as if he was eager to get this urgent errand over with. Victoria sighed as she took her book with her down to the sickbay. Dr. Maturin was there, holding up what appeared to be a model of a ship.

"What's this about now?" Victoria asked as she took a seat.

"The Acheron, Miss Hastings. Nagle made a surprising miniature of it, based from what Warley told him," Dr. Maturin said, handing the model to Victoria.

The young woman held the little wooden ship up to the light. The hull was unusually thick, and the keel of a streamlined, pointy make. The detail was astonishing, down to the last gunport. "Where was the Acheron built?" she asked.

"Boston," the physician said. "During the Peace. You were there too at that time-"

"Not for very long," Victoria replied. "I did not even have a fortnight with my mother there before my father summoned me back to Gibraltar. And my mother kept me away from the docks; she said it was putting in my head horrible ideas of going to sea."

"So much for the success of that," Dr. Maturin quipped dryly.

She laughed as she ran a finger over the boat's hull. "Is it meant to be this thick?"

"Two feet thick, so Captain Aubrey guesses."

"Well now we can tell Mr. Calamy why none of the shot would get through."

"He knows that already," Dr. Maturin said. "Nelson was right. These Yankee-built frigates will inevitably cause us trouble in the years to come."

"Unless we can win them back to our side?" Victoria joked. "But no. Our shipwrights ought to start building ships like this. Something that's a cross between a frigate and a ship of the line."

"You're definitely your father's daughter," Dr. Maturin noted with undisguised amusement. "If you'd been born a man, you would be a midshipman or a lieutenant."

"No, I'm too unruly," Victoria said, replacing the model ship on the doctor's table. "I still do not know who could have given our location to the Acheron."

"I've narrowed down our list. A likely name seems to be Cunningham. He was in Gibraltar for a time, a prime place for getting news-and not far from where the Acheron sailed from," Dr. Maturin replied grimly.

"There are a number of other names, like the agent Marquez. He's the most widely travelled," Victoria suggested. Marquez was the name of an agent she'd spent the better part of the last year trying to frustrate. She'd last caught up with him in Valetta, and would have turned him in to the authorities had it not been for a cleverly planted ruse. To this day, the mention of him was enough to make her contemplate reaching for her pistol.

"All the same, we cannot accuse any of them unless we hear word of them in a port, or catch them ourselves aboard the Acheron," Dr. Maturin reminded her. "We'll be finding a place soon to stock up on provisions; we'll certainly get news there."

It was four more days till the Surprise finally stopped for provisions. Most of the hands took the opportunity to barter with the locals who rowed out to the frigate, or at least to ogle the pretty women who made their appearances. The purser and other petty officers took charge of the main work of restocking the provisions.

"Gangway for the mail," Hollom said, bringing out a heavily wrapped package containing all the letters written over the past weeks. "Here we are. Very important mail, letters," he instructed the man who was to pass these notes to any British ship headed home.

Victoria in the meantime had begun to barter with some of the locals, trading some items she'd sewn for necessities like extra food. "One of these for some fruit," she explained to her friends, holding up some items she'd crocheted.

"They seem well clad enough. Or at least happy with what they're wearing," Williamson noted with some disgust.

"In this weather, I don't blame them," Will said. "It's too warm here."

"I wish I could barter with them for marbles," Boyle sighed.

"Is that really necessary?" Williamson retorted.

"You stole my last dozen!"

"Gentlemen, please no arguments!" Hollom protested, seeing that a scuffle was about to break out. He just managed to keep the two midshipmen from pummelling each other, but he could not stop their yelling and imprecations.

"Mr. Boyle, Mr. Williamson!" Mowett called reprovingly, forcing the two boys to quit their quarrelling.

Meanwhile Victoria noticed Dr. Maturin signalling to her. "I just talked to some of the sailors. The Acheron has not only passed by, but it was carrying Cunningham with her," the doctor said.

"That very same Cunningham from Boston? Balding, with gold eyeglasses and a scar?" Victoria asked in a low voice, drawing a line over her left ear for emphasis.

"That very man. He has a packet with him, supposedly," Dr. Maturin said. "We have to recover it if we find him on the Acheron."

"I suppose," Victoria said. There was no way she was going to speak more about it especially with the crew listening. Thankfully at that moment Mr. Hollar yelled loudly at Slade to put one of the local women back in her canoe instead of taking her aboard; a spectacle which certainly attracted the attention of all hands present, and ended most other conjectures.

Victoria thought much about this bit of news over the coming days. Cunningham was a crafty agent, a minor nemesis of sorts to Dr. Maturin and some other agents in the British intelligence. He was not as wide a traveller as other agents, but he was the sort who knew exactly how to disappear within a group. "_He'd blend with the woodwork of the Acheron the moment we searched the ship," _she mused one evening as she put on a clean purple dress and brushed her hair in preparation for supper in the gunroom.

As she stepped out of her berth, she saw someone sitting in the gunroom. "We're to have dinner in the Great Cabin tonight," Peter said, getting to his feet when she nodded to him.

"The Captain has invited us?" she asked, looping her arm in his.

"To be specific: the Doctor of course, as well as us lieutenants, Mr. Allen, Mr. Howard, and you. I suppose Captain Aubrey did not want you dining alone in the gunroom."

"I doubt it, Mr. Calamy. Normally I dine with the midshipmen when you lieutenants are all in the Great Cabin, and it's no trial to me."

Peter chuckled at this. "He told me expressly that I was to escort you. What is he playing at?"

"I'm not eager to find out. But since we're both dining with him tonight, we can definitely press him for an anecdote about Nelson and the Nile," she replied.

"You're right," Peter said mirthfully. His gaze was quizzical when he next looked at her." I saw you and Dr. Maturin conferring deeply when we were getting those provisions on the island. What was that about?"

Victoria feigned an indifferent shrug. "Nothing of consequence, at least to you."

"I heard the Acheron being mentioned."

"We were only trading observations." The last thing she wanted to do was to discuss her intelligence work in front of her friend, whether he already was nursing suspicions about this matter, or was completely blind to it.

"I'll take your word for it, Miss Hastings," Peter said as they entered the Great Cabin.

Victoria couldn't help but smile at the cheery sight of the table set with candles. The rich smell of lobscouse was in the air, along with that of wine. It reminded her very much of the festivities aboard her father's ship back in Gibraltar, and it was all she could do to keep from sighing too deeply in remembrance. However as soon as she was in her seat and the rest of the guests arrived at the Great Cabin, the slight gloom in her mind was banished altogether.

When the wine was poured, Captain Aubrey raised his glass. "To wives and to sweethearts," he said by way of a toast. "May they never meet."

Victoria tried to keep a straight face at this quip as she sipped her own glass of wine. "_What a truth of the service," _she thought. Though she knew that the _officers_ of the Surprise were a faithful bunch on the whole, she had heard too many tales of indiscretions aboard other ships to keep her mind completely free of bias regarding this matter.

Peter put down his glass of wine and wiped his mouth discreetly. "Excuse me Sir, but Mr. Blakeney said you served under Lord Nelson at the Nile," he said to Captain Aubrey.

"Indeed. I was a young lieutenant, close to the same age you are now," Captain Aubrey said. "And Mr. Pullings was a snivelling midshipman still yearning for hearth and home."

Pullings snorted at this while the rest of the company chuckled. "Did you meet him Sir? Could you tell me what he's like?" Peter asked.

"I had the honor of dining with him twice," Captain Aubrey replied with a smile. "He spoke to me on both occasions."

"He always said, 'Never mind the manoeuvres, just go straight at them," Pullings said.

"Some would say not a great seaman, but a great leader," Mr. Allen chimed in.

"My father served with him in the fleet. He always knew how to keep up the men's morale," Victoria observed.

"Sir, might we press you for an anecdote?" Mr. Allen asked the Captain.

Captain Aubrey looked directly at the group. "The first time he spoke to me...I shall never forget his words. I remember it as if it were yesterday. He leaned across the table and looked me straight in the eye...and he said, 'Aubrey, may I trouble you for the salt?'"

The gravelly voice which the Captain had used had Victoria nearly choking on her drink and Peter smiling a little ruefully. "I've always tried to say it exactly as he ever did since!" Captain Aubrey said to the two young people.

The Captain waited for the laughter to die down before continuing. "The second time...the second time he told me a story, about how someone had offered him a boat cloak on a cold night. And he said, no he did not need it. He was quite warm. His zeal for king and country kept him warm."

It was all that Victoria could do to keep from nodding as Captain Aubrey continued. I know it sounds absurd coming from another man. You'd cry out 'oh what pitiful stuff' and dismiss it as mere enthusiasm." Captain Aubrey looked Peter in the eye before continuing. "But with Nelson...you felt your heart glow."

Victoria smiled despite Dr. Maturin's half-scoffing expression at this story. "_How many men in the world are like that?" _she wondered. If only she'd been older, she might have campaigned with her father to let her meet the great Admiral as well.

"Wouldn't you say, Mr. Pullings?" Captain Aubrey asked his first lieutenant.

"You did indeed Sir," Pullings said, clearly nostalgic at this anecdote.

Dr. Maturin shrugged. "Well then, he would seem to be the exception to the rule that authority corrupts?"

Captain Aubrey nodded slightly before raising his glass. "To Lord Nelson."

"To Lord Nelson," the group said.

After a few more rounds of storytelling and some more glasses of wine, the entire party headed out to the quarterdeck. By this time, the hands had finished their dinner, and had gathered above decks for some fun. Some people were playing pipes and fiddles, enjoining some of the hands such as Nagle to get up and dance. Victoria noticed Hollom sitting by himself, keeping time by rapping his knuckles along the rail. Will and his two fellow midshipmen were on the quarterdeck, polishing off some pudding they'd saved from supper. Up in the rigging, some of the ship's boys were eating ends of biscuits known as 'midshipmen's nuts'.

"You know any dancing, Miss Hastings?" Williamson called to Victoria as she found a place on the quarterdeck.

"Not very well. I'm no good with reels," Victoria laughed. Unfortunately this sort of music was all the rage at the dances in England, and thus she never really felt inclined to dance.

"Perhaps you just haven't found the right partner," Boyle chimed in, daring to make a cheeky glance from Peter to Victoria.

"That, or you don't really know how to dance," Williamson said more haughtily before Peter cuffed him discreetly.

Victoria felt her cheeks grow hot at this insult. "Well I'd show you a line dance," she replied, remembering a little bit of what she had learned in the years leading up to her presentation at the Court. "But that would require some of you to act the parts of young ladies."

As she expected, the three younger midshipmen nearly doubled over laughing. "Where did you learn such things, at Almack's?" Williamson asked once he could breathe again.

"Not there of course. That is no place to try one's ah...inexperienced feet," Victoria said.

"But could you show us anyway?" Boyle asked.

"_Oh dear," _Victoria thought. This was not something she wanted to do on a ship crammed full of men. "Well if you can imagine it, this is how it appears. There would be a line of couples...yes, facing each other gentlemen. And you have a leading couple who will set the pace and start the dance down the line."

"Like how?" Williamson pressed on cheekily.

"Oh it's simple really...sometimes more like skipping. And _no_ you may not touch your partner!" Victoria warned the young gentlemen.

In the middle of it all, Joe Plaice suddenly mumbled something. "He spoke! Doctor, he spoke!" Barrett Bonden exclaimed excitedly to Dr. Maturin.

"Well done, Stephen," Captain Aubrey said as some of the men began singing a familiar sea shanty. "_Adieu to you Spanish ladies, farewell and adieu dear ladies of Spain. For we've received orders to sail for old England—" _

The entire group fell silent as a remarkably melodious voice joined in. "_We hope in a short time to see you again," _Hollom finished, his smile growing uneasy when he saw that no one was continuing the song.

"He's asking for trouble," Peter mumbled.

Victoria rolled her eyes. "You can't deny, he sings very well."

The men glanced at each other before picking up another song. "_Come all you bold young thoughtless men, a warning take by me. And never leave your happy home to sail the raging sea..." _

Even Victoria could not resist humming along to this merry tune. "_Even if there are some of us who choose never to pay heed to those words," _she thought, glancing over the seemingly endless expanse of a pitch black sea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: How to Evade a Phantom**

After the previous night's drinking and revelry, Peter was only too happy to fling himself in his hammock for some sleep till the next time he was to be on watch. However force of habit had him up and about at the crack of dawn.

Almost as soon as he was dressed, he heard what sounded like a flurry of activity above decks. When he arrived there, he saw the men were grim-faced, and even a little frightened.

"It caught up with us in the night Mr. Calamy," Hollom, the midshipman of the watch, said nervously to him.

Peter gritted his teeth as he brought out his spyglass and got a look at the frigate that was fast gaining on the Surprise. "Bloody hell, how did that get here?" he swore under his breath.

By this time, the other lieutenants and Mr. Allen were on deck, with Captain Aubrey making his appearance not a minute later. "My God, what can we do? He has us by the hip," Mr. Allen said to Captain Aubrey.

"Run like smoke and oakum," Captain Aubrey said.

"We'll have to bend every sail-"

"We'll put up our handkerchiefs if we have to!"

Peter lost no time in making sure that the hands unfurled every sail, from topgallants to staysails. "I tell you, the devil's at the wheel of that ship. You'd better hold fast," he heard Joe Plaice say to Nagle and the other men on the forecastle.

"You suppose if we used Miss Hastings' petticoats, it would help us harness more wind?" Doudle said from where he was hauling on a rope.

"If you want sails that rip in a heartbeat, yes," Victoria said from where she stood on the gangway. "This breeze would be disastrous to my personal effects."

Peter had to keep a straight face at the mental image of a petticoat stretched out as a sail. "_It certainly will not do," _he thought as he peered through his spyglass again. To his horror, the Acheron was spreading out even more sails on the sides of its rigging.

For the rest of the morning, the atmosphere on the ship was tense. There was some laughter and nervous joking, but all the while the crew kept looking astern towards where the Acheron was still pressing on. "Never saw anyone sail on as furious as that," Mr. Allen said to Peter some time that noon while the midshipmen were getting the ship's reckoning.

"She's a privateer. She'll take what she can get," Peter said grimly. The Surprise wasn't exactly the first choice for a prize, but he didn't put it past the crew of the Acheron to take on the challenge of capturing the frigate and taking prisoner one of the most renowned fighting captains of the Royal Navy.

The sound of hammering and sawing caught his attention. He turned towards the forecastle, where a sort of raft was being constructed. However this particular raft had a mast, complete with a sail and some attempt at a rigging.

Peter caught sight of Captain Aubrey watching this project with a knowing smile. "Excuse me Sir, what are they building?" he asked the captain.

"Your first command," Captain Aubrey replied.

The lieutenant looked quizzically at the structure, and noticed a row of three lanterns dangling from the rigging. "_Like the lights of the Great Cabin," _he observed. A shudder ran through him as he realized what Captain Aubrey intended to do. Could he get the decoy out on the water, and return to the Surprise before the Acheron blasted him to bits?

"What will happen if the Acheron catches up to us?" Will asked him nervously.

"Those of us who don't die right away, they'll take prisoner. And God help those men then," Peter replied. He flinched when he caught sight of Victoria; if she was taken prisoner, an even worse fate probably awaited for her. "_I'll be damned if I let that happen,"_ he resolved as he went to find Captain Aubrey to ask about the mission.

"It's fairly simple-in principle. You will take the raft out a little way from the Surprise. There will be four lamps on the raft, all of them covered by a dark cloth. At my signal, you will uncover each lamp, one by one, unfurl the sail, and then set the raft adrift. Then you will be towed back to safety," Captain Aubrey said by way of explanation.

"How long do I have?" Peter asked.

"Five minutes, at most. Any more, the Acheron might be upon us. I intend to draw her fire away from us for the night," Captain Aubrey said. It was evident though in his smile that there was something more in his plan, perhaps the most daring part of it yet.

By nightfall, the Acheron was already firing, but thankfully missing, the HMS Surprise. Captain Aubrey ordered most of the lights of the ship to be doused or hidden, except for the lights in the stern of the Great Cabin.

In preparation for this mission, Peter had left off his officer's coat and hat, as well as his shoes. He kept on his shirt, waistcoat, and trousers for warmth. He watched with trepidation as the crew lowered the decoy into the water, making as little a splash as was possible under the circumstances.

"Wouldn't want to lose you," Captain Aubrey said, helping Peter put on a belt that had a rope attached to it.

"Yes sir," Peter replied, giving a quick salute before using the rope to lower himself onto the raft. He waited as the raft drifted out a good way from the ship, guided only by a rope that the men were using to pull the makeshift vessel to the stern.

Once the raft arrived there, Peter climbed up the mast, up to where the highest lantern was located. He looked to Captain Aubrey for the signal. After a few moments, the light on the quarterdeck was doused. Peter swiftly pulled off the covering of the topmost lamp.

"Killick there! Douse your light!" Captain Aubrey hissed audibly. As one light dimmed in the Great Cabin, Peter uncovered the leftmost lamp in the row. In a few moments he made short work of the other lamps and let the raft's sail out of its bindings. The Surprise was all in darkness now, and the cannon shot from the Acheron was now being aimed closer and closer to the decoy. One in fact whistled right next to the raft, so close that Peter could nearly feel it whizzing by.

He quickly undid the rope that held the raft to the Surprise, and then quietly slipped into the water to swim back as fast as he could, letting himself be guided by the tugging of the rope at his belt. Despite the saltwater splashing into his eyes and the frigidness of the sea, he willed himself to press on, evading the cannon shot still firing at the decoy.

At last, he was up against the hull of the Surprise, giving him no choice but to climb ip on the rope. "Hello there, we caught a fish!" Bonden greeted him cheerily when he arrived at the rail, coughing up what seawater he'd drunk.

"Now tell me that wasn't fun," Captain Aubrey said approvingly as someone passed a large sheet over to Peter to dry himself off.

"Yes Sir," the lieutenant managed to say despite shivering with cold.

Captain Aubrey now went to the helm. "Hard to larboard!" he ordered, helping spin the wheel so that the Surprise was now headed east. "You may take the morning watch, Mr. Calamy," he said before giving orders to the other lieutenants to stand the men down.

Will and Victoria, who'd been watching the entire adventure from the quarterdeck, now hurried over. Will had buttoned up his coat closely to hide his white shirt, while Victoria had thrown a shawl over her dark blue dress. "That was quite an exciting venture, Mr. Calamy," Victoria said in an excited whisper.

"You think it will work?" Will asked, pointing to the decoy.

"It will. The Captain will bring us right behind the Acheron, I'm sure of it," Peter replied confidently. "Let me get into some dry things, and I'll be right with you both."

"Good. There's some tea and a few biscuits downstairs in the gunroom—Mr. Pullings let us set it up there," Victoria said. " That should warm you up."

"I'll be there. Thank you Miss Hastings," Peter assured her. He lost no time in going to his berth and changing his completely soaked clothes for a decidedly warmer and cleaner uniform. He frowned as he found he could not get his damp hair to stop falling every which way, no matter how much he combed it out. After a while, he gave up this enterprise entirely and went to join his friends.

"Your tea is getting cold, Sir," Will greeted when he entered the gunroom. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and was now sitting around with his empty shirtsleeve pinned across his chest.

"Do you have to be so formal?" Peter asked lightly as he sat down, and then picked up his cup of tea. The aroma was enough to evoke memories of sitting up late in his family's drawing room at home, exchanging stories with the same friends he had with him.

"Mr. Blakeney is a midshipman, and I'm only a civilian. I think some conventions must be followed," Victoria said with a teasing smile. Her hair was out of its usual updo, and was now in a long braid that fell down her back.

Peter sighed, wishing that she did not have to be so frank about the truth of the matter. "Where did you get this tea?" he asked his friends.

"The tea came from a trader I met in Italy, while the biscuits, Will traded for back at the island," Victoria explained. Her eyes were bright when she looked at him again. "I haven't got much of the tea, but you deserve it, after what you did."

Peter shook his head. "I was only following orders." He knew that any of the other lieutenants, and even the midshipmen could have done the same thing if Captain Aubrey had asked.

"You didn't flinch. That was brave of you," Will pointed out.

"Well thank you," Peter said, just to take the compliment politely. He sipped more of his tea. "This is almost like a good proper English teatime at home."

"Except for it being at rather a late hour," Will said before reaching for some biscuits.

"It hardly matters here on a ship. When the Surprise was in India, we had a few nights when dinner nearly went by the board," Peter said. "It tends to happen when one is in a chase. You forget you're hungry anyway."

"Much like Nelson saying he wasn't cold, like in Captain Aubrey's story," Victoria said.

"What story?" Will asked. "You managed to ask him?"

"Mr. Allen did," Peter explained before proceeding to relate the anecdotes that they had been told at dinner just the night before.

"You think we could ever chance to meet him one day?" Will asked once Peter had concluded his story telling.

"It depends on how the war goes, if the French dare to cross the channel," Peter replied. Last time he knew, Nelson was in the Mediterranean, but who knew how long that would last?

After an hour or so, the trio retired to their respective quarters. Peter slept rather well that night, not being exactly worried about the possibility of the Acheron seeing through the subterfuge, and catching up to the Surprise anyway. Last time he'd checked, Captain Aubrey was taking the Surprise quite far away from harm.

As soon as morning dawned, he lost no time in rousing his friends and the midshipmen before trooping out to see what had come about of Captain Aubrey's plan. It was as lovely a day as he could ask for; a good wind was in their sails, and the full expanse of the sea was before them. In fact Captain Aubrey and Pullings had even climbed to the top of the mainmast to take advantage of the view.

"There she is! Two points off starboard bow!" Mr. Hollar bellowed. Sure enough, the Surprise was now on the Acheron's tail, now with the weather gauge on its side.

"Three cheers for Lucky Jack!" Bonden shouted, eliciting a chorus of huzzahs from all the hands on deck.

"I told you it would work Will. We'll have them by nightfall," Peter said happily to the one-armed midshipman.

Victoria was grinning as she tied her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, lest it blow away in the breeze. "That would be a record, Sir, to catch that frigate before we reach the Horn."

"A blessing you mean," Hollom observed.

"It would save us a lot of horrible weather," Peter said. He'd never rounded the Horn before, but his own experience of rounding Cape of Good Hope en route to India was enough to instil in him a wariness for the southernmost seas. He saluted quickly as the Captain walked up to the group.

"I think we've got him Sir," Williamson said, holding up his spyglass.

"And the wind favors us this time," Peter noted.

"Don't count your eggs before they're in the pudding, Mr. Calamy," Captain Aubrey replied. "Still, if we can close this gap and get up right behind her, she may well be ours."

"_We'd better start thinking of a boarding strategy fast," _Peter thought as he lowered his spyglass.

"Touch wood, scratch a stay," Captain Aubrey said to the midshipmen. "Turn three times."

"May the Lord and saints preserve us," the midshipmen chorused, as part of yet another game to bring about good luck to their venture.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: The Horn**

That night, or even the next two days did not bring the Surprise much closer to the Acheron. On the third day the wind turned crisp, almost biting with its chilliness. Rain began to fall by mid-morning, soaking everyone to the bone.

"We're not going to be able to fight the Acheron in this weather!" Victoria shouted as she was helping some of the hands clear the deck of anything that could be washed overboard.

"The Captain thinks we might close in on her," Warley said. "We might get it yet."

"It's a phantom ship. It can only mean death at this point," Joe Plaice muttered.

"Oh stop it!" Victoria snapped. The deck was becoming far too slick to walk on, and it was all she could do to prevent from losing her footing. She saw the men who were not on watch that morning hurry to the starboard rail, leaning on it in an attempt to keep the ship from tilting too much to port.

"Miss Hastings, get below! This is no place for a lady!" Mowett called to her.

"In a moment-" Victoria called before a thud came from the area of the foremast.

"Butcher!" someone hollered, signifying that someone had fallen from aloft, and needed medical attention right away. Victoria and another one of the crewmen hurried forward to assist the boy who was now lying on the forecastle, shrieking in pain.

"There, there," Victoria whispered as she ran up to the boy. "He might have broken some ribs, I can't just scoop him up," she said to her companion. She winced as another cry of "Butcher!" came from the area of the mainmast, but she focused on getting the injured child to the sickbay.

Dr. Maturin sighed on seeing this new addition to the denizens of the sickbay, who were suffering from scurvy, extreme seasickness, and a collection of other illnesses and injuries. The doctor himself was drenched, having just returned from viewing Cape Horn through a telescope. "You'd best stay here for the duration of the storm, Miss Hastings. You could easily get washed away in this tempest," he said as he helped Victoria get the patient onto the table.

"We're not going to catch the Acheron today. Is that a good or a bad thing?" Victoria said, getting some cloth strips to bind up the boy's fractures.

"Good. In this weather, quite a number of us will be incapacitated," Dr. Maturin replied. As if in dire confirmation of this fact, one of the Marines was sick right near the sickbay door. The hatch clattered open again, admitting some more men who'd fallen off the rigging. Somehow, someone remembered to ring the bell, signalling another change in the watch.

"Hang it all, still more injuries," Victoria muttered on hearing more men head up above decks.

"Someone help! We can't get Smith below!" a marine bawled.

"I'll get him. Higgins is too drunk," Victoria said to Dr. Maturin. She grabbed a boat cloak and threw it on over her sodden dress. When she headed up the hatchway, she found some of the men trying to drag one of the Surprise's burlier men to safety. The masts were swaying dangerously in the wind, and men were hurrying to take in the topgallants before the vicious wind could blow the Surprise over. In particular the mizzen topgallant was flapping about, giving Warley trouble furling it.

"Think you can manage 'im, Miss?" Nagle asked Victoria nervously, pointing to Smith.

"Now isn't the time for questions," she said, going to help. Through the driving wind, she could just barely make out a dark landmass several miles off. "_That's got to be the Horn," _she thought. How many ships had been dashed to pieces on its rocky shores?

Just as she had gotten the injured man into the hatch, someone yanked on her boat cloak "Miss Hastings, what are you still doing out here?" Peter asked indignantly. "The Captain already ordered all idlers and waisters below."

"I have to help take the injured to sick bay!" she replied, trying to be heard over the howling wind. Suddenly a horrendous snapping sound came from overhead. Peter quickly pulled her away from quarterdeck as the topmost part of the mizzen mast, topgallant and all, fell into the sea.

"Man overboard!" Mr. Allen roared. Victoria and Peter rushed to the taffrail and saw Warley desperately splashing towards the wreckage of the mizzen mast, which was still attached to the Surprise by some ropes now pulled taut by the waves.

"Swim for the wreckage man!" Captain Aubrey shouted into the storm.

"Swim Will!" Nagle yelled. Yet even at that moment huge waves were breaking over the Surprise's deck, nearly washing more people into the ocean.

Peter pushed Victoria towards one of the lifelines. "Don't you dare let go, Victoria," he said in her ear through his shivering.

"You too," Victoria said, shutting her eyes as a wave slammed into the frigate. She had not heard Peter address her by her first name since the first months of their friendship in Gibraltar. "_He must truly be frightened then," _she realized.

"Mr. Allen, gratings, barrels, anything that floats, overboard!" Captain Aubrey ordered as the ship continued to tilt.

Another wave broke over the deck, and pulled Warley further from the wreckage of the mizzen. "She's broaching! We're losing her!" Mr. Allen cried.

"_Please, please not here, not today!" _Victoria prayed silently. It was hopeless; any moment the Surprise could go down with all hands. She hid her face in her sleeve to hide the tears that were welling in her eyes.

"Sir, the wreckage is acting as a sea anchor! We must cut it loose! It's going to sink us!" Pullings shouted to Captain Aubrey, even as Nagle was yelling that Warley was going to make it. The Surprise continued to tilt; within a few moments it would be completely swamped.

Victoria cringed when she saw Mr. Allen unwrap some axes. Captain Aubrey picked up an axe for himself and handed one to a distraught Nagle. "_Don't do it, don't do it," _Victoria wanted to scream, seeing that indeed, Warley wasn't far off from the wreckage. But the feel of the boat tilting below her was far too terrifying for her to protest.

"Don't look," Peter said, keeping a tighter grip around her waist.

"He's not going to do it, is he?" Victoria asked.

"We have no choice," Peter said. Even so, he bit his lip at the sounds of an axe hitting rope, and the lines springing loose.

Despite Peter's warning, Victoria couldn't help but watch anyway, all the while praying for a sudden swell, a burst of effort, anything that would push Warley to the wreckage before it was too late. She looked at Captain Aubrey, whose face seemed stricken as he motioned for Nagle to step aside before cutting away the last of the lines. The wreckage sprung free, the Surprise began righting itself again, and cheering came from below decks. She had to shut her eyes and bite on her lip to stifle her cries of protest at what had just happened. After a few moments she had to bury her face in Peter's shoulder so no one could see her crying.

Peter crossed himself as the Surprise continued to move away from the wreckage, and a swell took a still struggling Warley out of sight. Hollom, who had been climbing the mizzen when it had happened, was sobbing as he made his way back to the deck. Mr. Allen had buried his face in the taffrail while Nagle was too horrified for words.

"_If only those below knew!" _Victoria thought as she got to her feet, despite her numb and cold limbs. As soon as the hatchway opened again, she lost no time in fleeing below decks, ignoring those who commented that she resembled a drowned rat.

Dr. Maturin met her at the sickbay door. "What happened?"

"Mizzen mast. Warley's lost," Victoria whispered.

Dr. Maturin looked down. "I'm sorry to hear that. Nagle..."

"Had to cut his mate away," Peter said, appearing behind Victoria.

"Terrible. You two get into dry clothes. And Miss Hastings, none of those low cut dresses; you'll catch pneumonia if you aren't careful," Dr. Maturin advised.

Victoria managed a weak chuckle at this quip. "I'll be sensible about it, Sir," she said. Besides in this infernal weather, she could not help but dress warmly, or at least modestly.

Dr. Maturin nodded before turning to glance at a hammock, where someone was whimpering. "If the Captain asks, I'm here in the sickbay. Some people will need nursing throughout the night."

"I'll do it Sir," Victoria said more resolutely. She knew that Captain Aubrey would want to talk to Dr. Maturin, perhaps in the Great Cabin. Dr. Maturin smiled gratefully before the two young people quit the sickbay and headed in the general direction of their berths.

When they were in the gunroom, Victoria rested her head against the door of her berth. "That shouldn't have happened," she murmured.

"What do you mean? If Captain Aubrey hadn't cut the mizzen loose, we'd be at the bottom of the ocean," Peter pointed out.

"I know that. He could have waited longer...Warley was almost there," Victoria whispered. She glanced to where Nagle was steadily drinking his grog, trying to keep his composure as he went through his deceased friend's sea chest. "A moment longer, couldn't he have given him that?"

"I don't think so," Peter said.

Victoria dabbed at her eyes. While she hadn't been particularly close to Warley, she still could not endure the idea of _any_ of her shipmates meeting such a hideous end. "I don't know how Captain Aubrey could do it."

"It was the storm that killed Warley. That sprung mizzen mast, the wind...that was what did it," Peter said more firmly. He reached out to help Victoria remove her soaked boat cloak. "You heard what the doctor said, and you have a long night ahead of you."

She nodded, unable to come up with a retort to this. "You take care of yourself too then, Mr. Calamy," she said before going into her small berth. The floor was awash thanks to some flooding caused by the storm, but she still managed to find a dress with a high collar, and a shawl for good measure. Thankfully she had thought of putting her books on the topmost part of her sea chest, and thus these were preserved from getting soaked.

Once she'd changed her clothes, she headed straight for the sickbay. Higgins was there, with a message that Dr. Maturin had gone up to the Great Cabin, thus leaving Victoria in charge of a specific number of individuals. The young woman shook her head on seeing these cases; three of them had just gotten injured in the storm, while four of them were suffering from fever and varying degrees of scurvy. There was little to do but to make sure that those with fever were adequately cooled, and that all of the patients got ample rest and were not tossed out of their hammocks.

As she sat down, she could hear people still being violently ill in the berth deck. The very smell of it was enough to threaten to turn her guts. "_Why did I leave Gibraltar?" _she wondered in a moment of despair. She shut her eyes to recall what she knew of the map of the world; soon enough they would be turning towards the Pacific Ocean, and back towards the more sunlit latitudes. If only they would all be able to last out till that time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Back to the Sun**

With the wind blowing against them after the storm, the Surprise had no choice but to turn south into even harsher latitudes. Over the next few days the increasingly cold winds made it an ordeal for anyone to go on watch. It did not help that many of the crew were ill after the storm and that morale had decreased a bit following Warley's death.

"_How does anything even live in these parts?" _Peter wondered as he was on watch one bitter morning. He had read of birds and seals that actually _thrived_ in the South Pole, but he was not willing to speculate yet as to how such a thing was possible.

"Think we'll see any penguins here?" Will asked from the port gangway. He had taken to wearing a single glove lately, to preserve the use of his remaining hand.

"I don't know if they'll get near the Surprise, and if we are near enough to their ice floes, we might run into trouble," Peter replied. He blew on his hands to keep them warm before sticking them in his pockets. From where he stood, he could see ice forming on the rigging and worse, slush in the general area of the head. Some of the hands were starting up a snowball fight on the forecastle, causing some laughter and oaths from the participants and spectators.

"Mr. Calamy, may I please borrow your spyglass?" Victoria asked as she emerged from the hatchway. Like most of the other hands on deck, she was dressed warmly with a heavy coat and a hat.

"What do you need the spyglass for?" Peter wondered.

"Mr. Blakeney and I have a wager about the number of penguins we can spot," Victoria replied. She winced as she rubbed her hands. "It's a break I need. Been stitching up bandages and even that new mizzen topgallant."

"_The Doctor is rubbing off on them," _Peter thought. He looked around and spotted Dr. Maturin up in the tops, clearly doing some observations of his own. "Alright, just for a little while," the lieutenant said, handing the spyglass to the girl.

Just then Will gave a shout. "About a dozen, off the port bow!"

"Already?" Victoria exclaimed from where she stood on the starboard side. "Well...nothing's here yet...but wait, there's a whole cluster over on that rock there."

"How many, Miss Hastings?"

"I'd say about thirty."

"_Of all things to make wagers on," _Peter thought. He could just spot the clusters of birds that his friends were talking about, and now he was unsure as to which he would take a look at more closely. He decided that Victoria could handle the spyglass on her own, and so he went to help Will.

His midshipman friend gave him a quizzical look as he walked up. "Thought you'd help Miss Hastings," he said.

"She can manage just fine," Peter replied. From where he stood he had a good view of the penguins' black backs and white bellies. He could just distinguish the black and white bands on the birds' heads which gave them a comical appearance.

"I manage well too," Will pointed out. "I'm learning how to get on without my right arm."

"That's good to hear," Peter said. Apart from some difficulty in handling sextants and not being able to climb the rigging, Will was otherwise unhindered in carrying out the majority of his duties as a midshipman. "_Still it doesn't bode well for him to have only one arm; unless he's a Nelson in the making," _the lieutenant mused.

Will shifted his spyglass. "Miss Hastings looks like she needs help counting her penguins."

"Why would she?" Peter asked. Then it dawned on him what his friend was playing at. "You're a scamp, Mr. Blakeney," he chided. Had not Will been an old friend, he might have rebuked him more sharply for his proposed intervention.

"You two have always been particular friends," Will said. "But are you two attached?"

"No. Our parents-rather, my mother and her father encourage our friendship. I don't believe I've done anything that would compromise her throughout this voyage, or even before that."

"I know, but you're not indifferent to her."

"I have nothing but the highest regard for her," the lieutenant replied. He was aware that his closeness with Victoria was the subject of discussion in some circles. He was a naval officer now, but he was certainly not descended from the landed gentry unlike a number of his fellow officers. As for Victoria, it was true that the Hastings family did not have a title to its name, but since she was the daughter of a high-ranking naval officer, she was entitled to presentation at the court, and thus an entrance into London society. It was, he surmised, a rather less-than-ideal situation if the _ton_ were to enforce their dictates, but perhaps too humble for them to bother meddling in.

"If we were in England, would you be trying to court her?" Will pressed on after a few moments.

"I'm only nineteen. Now isn't the time for me to pay attention to such things," Peter said more irately. He recalled his conversation with Victoria all those months ago, about how he was in no position to wed. _"And what kind of woman could I be prevailed upon to marry?" _he wondered.

Will shrugged before peering through his scope again. "It was just a thought, Mr. Calamy."

"One you've been entertaining for too long. Time to get back to work," Peter said. It was just as well, since Victoria walked up, carrying Peter's spyglass.

"I'm needed in the sickbay. Thank you, Mr. Calamy," Victoria said, handing the spyglass back to him. She cocked her head slightly as she looked at him. "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing, Miss Hastings," Peter said. Now it was all he could do not to stare at her too long, especially at how her eyes were still so lively despite the bleakness of the day. "_Captain Aubrey is going to have something to say about it if he knew," _he reminded himself.

Still, he couldn't help but glance at Victoria as she walked to the hatchway. Her figure was not exactly obscured by all the layers she had on, and she had certainly developed a slight grace in her movements. When Victoria had gone below decks, Peter glanced over at Will, who was giving him a knowing smirk.

"Not a word," Peter said to his friend before returning to the quarterdeck. He resolved not to speak to Victoria on this matter, at least for as long as he could help it. At that moment, a rogue snowball hit him right in the face. He coughed and sputtered as he wiped the cold snow out of his face, only to realize that the powder monkeys were watching him rather warily.

"Sorry Sir. We didn't mean to—" Lofty, the youngest of the boys said meekly.

"No harm done," Peter said. He found a pile of snow on the quarterdeck, and made as if to pack it into a snowball of his own. "Just don't go beyond bounds, gentlemen," he called to the boys, who seemed wary as to what he was going to do. He lobbed his half-finished snowball off the stern, making a mental note to get some of the waisters to clear the decks of all this unwanted ice.

That very evening, Peter learned that he, as well as Will and Victoria had been invited to dine in the Great Cabin with the doctor and most of the other officers. _"Some occasion?" _he wondered as he took extra pains to make himself presentable for the event. As far as he knew, no one at that table was celebrating a birthday, and no special day such as saluting day was coming up. He decided that perhaps the Captain had good news for all of them.

Just as he left his berth, he saw another figure headed for the Great Cabin. Victoria stopped and made something of a proper curtsy to him. "Good evening, Mr. Calamy," she greeted.

He bowed politely, feeling a little flustered at this sudden display of manners. Everything about Victoria was suddenly rather dignified. She had on a pink dress with a modest train, and her dark hair was swept away from her face in a simple hairstyle. In his eyes, it was as if she'd transformed into a delicate London debutante, quite removed from the rough and tumble young woman he had befriended. "You're looking very well, Miss Hastings," he said, offering her his arm.

She smiled at him. "I've never seen you look so dashing before, Sir."

"Now why are you flattering me?" he asked.

"I'm not," she said, her tone now of utmost seriousness as she beckoned for him to step aside lest they block the path of anyone seeking to enter the Great Cabin. "But may I have a word with you first? I couldn't help but overhear-and I'm sorry for eavesdropping, Mr. Calamy, but I heard you and Mr. Blakeney mention me in conversation this morning."

If Peter could have jumped overboard to avoid this turn in the conversation, he gladly would have. "_Yet you owe the lady an answer," _he reminded himself. "Mr. Blakeney had a comment or two about our friendship," he replied calmly.

"You cannot blame him. He's only thirteen years old, what does he know?" Victoria said. "He may be a lord, but a young one nonetheless."

"May I be frank with you, Miss Hastings-he actually asked if the two of us have an attachment," Peter replied more quickly than he'd intended.

Victoria burst out laughing. "An attachment? Not once, Sir, have you _ever_ importuned me with that intent."

"You are right," Peter said. "I've never paid such attentions to any lady in that manner."

Victoria nodded. "You have always been more dedicated to your profession—so much that you did not even look at the women who came rowing up to us at that island."

"You make me sound like a eunuch, Miss Hastings!" Peter laughed, a little mortified that this had to be pointed out to him. "I was rather busy with my duties at that moment and I had no attention to spare."

"Isn't that true for both of us?" Victoria replied.

"Which brings me to the question-are you attached to anyone?" he asked.

"No. If I was, I would not be allowed here aboard this ship," Victoria said.

"Yet why did you choose to come, considering your other obligations?" Peter asked. He could hardly imagine the pressure Victoria would be under to find a suitable husband; she'd been presented in court two years before, but she had yet to receive any marriage proposals.

"Because, I value doing my part in the war-no, I cannot detail it lest the Doctor have me hanged for it-" she began, holding up her hand for emphasis. "I cannot do it if I am to always be at that marriage bazaar in London."

"You have a point," Peter said, sensing that this discussion was becoming a little too dangerous for his liking. He glanced towards the Great Cabin door and took Victoria's arm. "Let's not keep everyone else waiting."

He was very used to the gaiety of the Great Cabin, having dined there quite a number of times during his midshipman days. Yet tonight it seemed a little more festive and cheery than usual, perhaps as a contrast to the inclement weather outside the Surprise. Apart from a questioning look or two from Will, no one in the group commented on Peter escorting Victoria into the cabin, or even at the fact that they sat across from each other.

Towards the end of supper, a telltale creaking came from overhead. "_Bonden has finally changed our course," _Peter realized amid the cheers of most of the party. Only Victoria and Dr. Maturin looked quite perplexed as to what was happening.

"Clearly something nautical and fascinating has happened. I'm at a loss," Dr. Maturin said.

"We've made our turn northward. We're headed back towards the sun," Captain Aubrey replied enthusiastically.

Mowett raised his glass. "To the sun!"

"To the sun!" everyone chorused.

Captain Aubrey then called for Killick, who then appeared carrying a large tray. "Gentlemen, I give you... our destination," he announced.

Peter couldn't resist leaning over to take a look. The dessert on the tray was a sort of pudding molded into several lumps atop a dark field of jelly. A sort of ship seemed to float in the middle of this odd archipelago.

"It's the Galapagos Islands!" Dr. Maturin exclaimed.

"Our whaling fleet is there. And their cargo would put a pretty penny into old Bones-aparte's invasion purse. That's where the Acheron will be, sure as there's carts to horses," Captain Aubrey said. He then got a knife to divide the dessert. "So Mr. Pullings, if you'll permit me, a slice of Albermarle. For you Doctor, Redondo Rock."

"Perfect," Dr. Maturin said, receiving his slice of pudding.

"For you, Mr. Mowett, a slice of Narbrough. Mr. Allen, you will have some from the Duke of Norfolk. Mr. Calamy, a bit of the Earl of Abingdon's island, Mr. Howard, you can have some of Lord Culpeper's island. As for you, Mr. Blakeney, a slice from King James', and Miss Hastings, you're free to King Charles' Island," Captain Aubrey said, continuing to divide the pudding. "And the Acheron for me," he finished, gobbling up the small ship amid the laughter of the entire group.

"On which island are there birds, Doctor?" Will asked Dr. Maturin.

"Redondo Rock of course, and I've heard they are also on Culpeper's Island as well," said after swallowing some of his pudding.

"If we get to spend time there, I should want to see them," Will said excitedly.

"And maybe get some word from the whalers," Victoria said in a quieter voice. "My father would want some word from the fleet," she added when Peter threw her a questioning look.

"_I'll get the truth out of you yet, Victoria," _Peter thought as he ate his pudding. How he was to do it without being rude, he wasn't sure, but he looked forward to the challenge.

Before long, more wine was poured out, and more toasts were made. Mr. Allen began singing, "_Safe and sound and home again, let the waters roll Jack. Safe and sound and home again, let the waters roll Jack." _

"_Long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore Jack," _the rest of the group sang. Even Will and Victoria did not desist from adding their higher-pitched voices to the song. "_Don't forget your old shipmates, Folly-rolly-rolly-rolly-rye-oh!" _

"_We have worked the selfsame gun, quarterdeck division," _Mr. Allen sang on. "_Sponger I and loader you, through the whole commission." _

This time, the chorus was even more vigor. Peter couldn't help but feel a little wry as he looked at his friends. It was different to be around his superiors like Captain Aubrey and Lieutenants Pullings and Mowett; they'd been in the life ahead of him and had pretty much initiated him into the workings of being an officer and a sailor. However with Will, and more especially with Victoria, he couldn't help but feel a little fearful. "_They will have to see even more frightful action before we go home," _he realized. Who knew if they would live through that?

Eventually the dinner party ended, with most of the officers standing down, save for Mowett, who was to be on watch that night. "Will you need help in the sickbay tonight, Doctor?" Victoria asked Dr. Maturin as everyone left the Great Cabin.

"No. There is little to be done, but thank you Miss Hastings," Dr. Maturin said. "You can rest easy, maybe till the Galapagos brings about another round of injuries."

"_Why would it?" _Peter wondered quietly. He watched Victoria laughing over some joke with Will, and suddenly felt unsure about asking her about the matter. He was convinced now, more than ever, that his friend had gotten embroiled in some dangerous intrigue.

It was Victoria who caught his eye first with a significant look once Will had gone back to the midshipmen's berth. "It's none of your concern, Mr. Calamy," she said to him.

"Does your father know you're doing this?" he asked in a confidential tone.

"Not all of it," Victoria replied, fiddling with the train of her dress. "I know you're curious, but I cannot tell you what I do."

"And why not?"

"Aside from work, you'd never look at me the same way again." She gave him another curtsy. "Good night, Mr. Calamy."

"Good night Miss Hastings," Peter said, bowing stiffly before going to his own quarters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Las Enchantadas **

The next few days passed more easily for the crew of the HMS Surprise. More people recovered from the injuries and illnesses sustained from rounding the Horn, and morale were rising. Even though Captain Aubrey had chosen to forego a stop at Valparaiso in order to stock up on supplies, no one felt particularly bad at this decision.

It was on a bright morning when Victoria decided to straighten up and air out the sickbay, which till then had been occupied by a number of malingering men who'd taken some convincing from Dr. Maturin to return to their duties. As she threw out some old linen, taking care not to get in the way of Dr. Maturin as he was reading, she heard a hurried step at the ladder.

"Sir! Miss Hastings! We've raised the Galapagos!" Will called excitedly.

"I'm coming!" Dr. Maturin shouted, snatching up his spyglass. Victoria grabbed her bonnet and raced up after her two friends, determined not to miss anything on these islands.

Most of the crew was gathered on the port side of the Surprise, commenting and pointing at the various animals that they passed. Some of the men had managed to secure spyglasses, which they had to share with some of their equally curious friends.

Boyle pointed to the shore. "There's an ugly devil."

Williamson grimaced as he looked through his telescope. "Disgusting! It's got warts all over it!"

"What on earth are you looking at?" Victoria asked, borrowing the scope next. Her jaw dropped at the sight of several iguanas lounging on the rocks. "Are they dangerous?"

"Iguanas are primarily vegetarian, Miss Hastings," Dr. Maturin said from where he had set up his own glass. "They won't go after humans."

Peter motioned from the forecastle. "You can take a look here."

"Why thank you," Victoria said, hurrying up to her friend to borrow his spyglass. She had to resist from giving him a sidelong glance, even if she did notice that he had cleaned up nicely again this morning. "So many unusual birds! It's even queerer than Jonathan's Swift book."

"Look at that bird," Peter noted, pointing to an apparently flightless cormorant. "Almost no wings left for it."

"Maybe it has no need for them, here," Victoria said. Her eyes went wider as she saw an iguana go into the water. "Did you see that?"

"What? Good Lord..." Peter trailed off.

Will and Dr. Maturin had also been observing the iguanas, and both of them were just as astonished. "Well I'll be damned. Two new species in as many minutes," Dr. Maturin said.

Only one person was not on the port side looking at these natural wonders. Captain Aubrey had remained on the starboard side, clearly looking out for something. "All hands about ship! Off tacks and sheets! Prepare the mainsail to haul!" he ordered.

Peter quickly trained his spyglass to the starboard side. "Shipwrecked whalers," he informed his friends before hurrying off to work.

"Well so much for this naturalist's paradise," Victoria muttered. Nevertheless she couldn't help but feel a little relieved at this bit of news. Perhaps she and Dr. Maturin could finally have some progress with their intelligence mission.

In a few minutes the shipwrecked men were being helped aboard the HMS Surprise. One of them introduced himself as Mr. Hogg, the former master of the whaling ship the Albatross. As soon as he and his men were given food and water, he began his tale.

"We was coming back for fresh lines no more than a week ago. Hid in that inlet yonder. Burnt our bloody ship to the waterline. Fucking pirates!" he said in a throaty voice. He had to take a drink before continuing. "Crew prisoner, captain dead. She were a big black three-master. Break your heart, it would."

"And her course?" Captain Aubrey asked.

"Maybe a point south of west, following the rest of the fleet," Mr. Hogg replied.

Captain Aubrey nodded. "Mr. Pullings, enter these men's names in the ship's books. Mr. Allen, set a course. West by south!"

"All hands make sail!" Mr. Allen ordered.

Mowett and Peter were now discussing rather furtively, perhaps about where they would now take on provisions if they were not to land on the Galapagos. In the meantime, Dr. Maturin, who had just made his appearance in his banyan coat and carrying his cages, now looked about with an expression of shock and confusion on his face. He handed his collecting equipment to Padeen before heading below to seek out Captain Aubrey.

Victoria on the other hand went to Mr. Hogg. "Sir, I need to ask a question of you," she said politely, in order to conceal her trepidation.

Mr. Hogg gave her an astonished look, but whether it was at her question or her presence aboard the ship, she could not tell. "What is it, Miss?"

"Aboard that ship, did you chance to see a short balding man?" Victoria asked. "He would have had gold eyeglasses and a ropy scar over his left ear, and a manner of waddling too."

"I hardly had a look, little Miss," Mr. Hogg replied.

"There was one! I saw 'im," one of Mr. Hogg's companions chimed in. "He searched our hold and the captain's room, looking for what, I don't know."

"_Papers or the log," _Victoria realized. "He had no companion?"

"None to my sight, Missie," the whaler said.

"Did he take anything from your ship?"

"The log and some papers the Captain had. Nothing we saw or can read of course."

Victoria curtsied. "Thank you Sir," she said. She then hurried down to the sickbay in hopes of finding Dr. Maturin there, but she paused on hearing angry voices in the Great Cabin. "_Oh these crossed agendas!" _she thought, dashing off before either Captain Aubrey or Dr. Maturin could detect her presence. From what she had heard, the captain had probably promised the doctor some time to wander the Galapagos to make whatever observations he could.

After finishing her work cleaning up the sickbay, she headed back into the open air. When she arrived on deck, she saw Peter and some of the other men hauling some large fish on deck. "Don't leave them there, Davies. Get them below," Peter said to the biggest man in the group. "Orrage will know what to do with them."

"You don't often get fish this large at home," Victoria said by way of observation as she pulled in a line that had gone unnoticed by the fish. She frowned on seeing the moldy hardtack used as bait.

Peter motioned for her to step aside as someone carried a flopping fish out. "That might ruin your dress," he pointed out.

"I can always wash it out," Victoria replied. She noticed Dr. Maturin sulking at the stern of the ship. "I do hope he'll be alright."

"So much for him and Will going ashore for their collecting. But we'd best take advantage of this wind and tide," Peter remarked. He adjusted his hat before looking at Victoria again. "I saw you asking the whalers about something."

Victoria shrugged. "Nothing of consequence."

"To you, _everything_ is of consequence," he said.

"I had some information to acquire." She saw him raise an eyebrow and she sighed. For so long, she'd wanted to confide in someone, to unburden herself of the things she'd done. "_I wish I could tell him," _she realized. Peter knew the life, he understood how it was to be in terrible situations, and he could at least listen to her even if he might not agree with what she was doing.

"Miss Hastings? Victoria?" Peter asked again. "Are you alright?"

She drew him aside, out of earshot of most of the crew "Mr. Calamy, I've been assisting with the intelligence operations of our Admiralty. You'd better swear yourself to secrecy on this," she whispered.

Peter's brow furrowed. "Intelligence?"

"How do you think many post captains get their information on attacks, or on disguises?" She bit nervously ran a hand through her hair, trying to gauge his expression. "You may not understand now, but all I ask is that you keep my secret."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Two years," Victoria replied. "Only...a few people know this. I'm only telling you since you're my closest friend. Please, Peter, don't you dare breathe a word." She bit her lip, realizing she'd used his Christian name.

The young lieutenant swallowed hard. "And that is why you're hardly in England nowadays."

"Yes. My work takes me everywhere."

He nodded before looking her in the eye. "Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone."

"Not even your mother."

"Not even her."

"Thank you," Victoria whispered. Had they been just children, she would have shaken his hand or even hugged him for it, but today she restrained herself to a curtsy.

"Miss Hastings please, you need not be so formal," Peter said, holding back a chuckle. "You never were that way till we rounded the Horn."

She giggled a little nervously. "Well I am a lady as much as I am your shipmate. Is it so wrong for me to act the part?"

"Perhaps not," he acceded, giving her a grin that was just bordering on playful. "It is just that is a sudden change in manners."

"I'm older now, Mr. Calamy. It is only natural. Besides, I cannot help it when you are always looking like a gentleman," Victoria pointed out. "It must be the uniform."

"You will eventually tire of it," he replied. He glanced over as someone rang the bell. "It's my turn on watch, Miss Hastings. We'll speak more about this later."

"I know," Victoria said. She gave him a last glance before going to the stern where Dr. Maturin was talking to Will. Despite what happened, she still had important news to relay.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Now the drama is going to start_

**Chapter 9: On Armament**

Now that the Surprise was in relatively calm waters, the opportunity now presented itself for the crew to practice its handling of the Surprise's cannons. As soon as Dr. Maturin had made himself safe catching specimens in a boat trailing a good way from the ship's stern, the rest of the crew got to work firing from the larboard battery.

For Peter, this was an exciting, if not nearly deafening experience. He'd been commanding gun crews since he was thirteen years old and even after all this time he still attentive for the best and speediest ways to load, fire, and reload a cannon in quick succession. "_It means the difference between life and death especially in a ship of the line," _he told himself as he helped fire the last gun in the row.

"Timing?" Captain Aubrey called to Mowett, who stood at one end with a watch.

"Two minutes and one second, Sir," the second lieutenant reported.

"Lads, that's not good enough. We need to fire two broadsides to her one!" Captain Aubrey shouted. "Do you want to see a guillotine in Piccadilly?"

"No!" the entire crew shouted.

"Do you want to call Napoleon your king?" the captain yelled, eliciting an even louder "No!" from the gun crews. Now even Peter couldn't resist cringing at the thought even as he added his own voice to the clamor.

"Do you want your children to sing the Marseilles?" Captain Aubrey shouted even louder.

"No!"

"Mr. Calamy, Mr. Pullings, starboard battery!" Captain Aubrey ordered. Everyone ran to the other side of the ship, while the ship's boys, under Victoria's directions, hurried to supply each crew with shot and powder. The process was almost like a weird martial dance, with each man knowing his place in the cycle of swabbing, loading the guns with powder and shot, tamping it all down, and rolling out the cannons. The midshipmen and the leaders of each gun crew yelled out encouragement and saw to it that each step was carried out in cadence with the rest. Only Hollom's gun crew fell out of step at times, owing to the fact that the gun crew had been hastily put together from among the men who could be spared for this duty. Hollom's original gun crew had been killed in the first attack from the Acheron or in the storm while rounding the Horn.

"Report, Mr. Calamy!" Captain Aubrey called.

"Third and fourth divisions ready Sir!" Peter replied, looking up and down the line.

"Right. Starboard battery, fire!"

The entire deck shook as one by one each gun crew fired and reloaded its weapon. A lull hardly had time to settle before the first gun crew fired once again, all the way down the line.

"One minute and ten seconds!" Mowett reported proudly as the firing stopped.

"Well done lads. Extra grog for all of you," Captain Aubrey said amid the cheers and shouts of the gun crews. "Marked improvement, Mr. Pullings, Mr. Calamy," he said to his lieutenants.

"Thank you, Sir," Peter replied. He made a cursory inspection to make sure that the cannon and the other implements surrounding it were all in their proper places before he went to the gun room for some much-needed refreshment. When he arrived, his fellow lieutenants were already there.

"We should stand a chance against the Acheron if the men can keep firing like that when we do meet her," Pullings said optimistically as he set down his cup of grog.

"That's for the initial approach, Tom. But what if, say, we have to board her?" Mowett mused. "We should have some small arms practice as well."

"I'll ask the Captain about that tomorrow," Pullings promised.

"The question is, how soon till we actually do catch the Acheron? According to Mr. Hogg, she went straight after the rest of our fleet," Peter pointed out. "We might be halfway to the Marquesas before we find her."

"Let's hope our water will hold out till then," Mowett said. "That's the main concern."

"Aren't there any islands or places where we could solve that problem?" Peter asked.

"They are few and far between. And some islands do not have streams that can slake the thirst of several hundred men," Pulling replied.

Peter nodded as he picked up his own cup of grog. He caught a flash of motion towards one of the berths. "How long have you been eavesdropping there, Miss Hastings?" he called.

"Not very long, Sir," Victoria said, her face slightly pink as she stepped out of her quarters. "I couldn't help but overhear, so I decided to look for a map."

"A map?" Pullings asked.

Victoria nodded as she set down a square of paper on the gunroom table and found a seat. "It's not quite complete, gentlemen, but it's got notations enough about places that are ah...friendly to us."

Peter leaned in to examine what Victoria was showing them. It was a map of the Pacific, at least of the area from the Galapagos to some miles beyond the Marquesas. It resembled the maps that Captain Aubrey had with him, but some extra islands were drawn in sketchily, while the rest of the map was annotated with some cryptic symbols and some more easily decipherable flags. "How up to date is this?" he asked.

"It's several months old; I got it about a fortnight before we set sail," Victoria said. Judging by her tone, she was not going to reveal how she came by such information. "If the Captain wishes to see the map, or ask about it, he may do so by all means."

"Should the doctor be privy to it?" Peter asked. He wondered if Dr. Maturin had any hand in drawing up this odd map, but he knew he had to be discreet in inquiring about the matter.

Victoria gave him a small smile. "I don't see why he shouldn't," she said. "I'll leave the map with you, gentlemen."

Peter turned to see if the Great Cabin was open, but he soon heard the tell tale sounds of a violin and a cello. "_No harm in waiting," _he thought, finally drinking his grog.

It was after supper when at last Pullings was able to bring the map to Captain Aubrey. It was decided that for now, there was no need to alter the Surprise's course. However the next morning, the ship was suddenly becalmed.

"How on earth did that happen?" Peter asked exasperatedly when Hollom, the midshipman of the watch, reported this to the officers of the Surprise. "The weather wasn't changing in the slightest!"

"That's the very problem, Mr. Calamy, the weather hasn't been changing," Captain Aubrey pointed out. He shook his head disappointedly. "They don't call this ocean the Pacific for nothing."

It was all that Peter could do not to cringe at this. "_A calm is the last thing we need right now," _he thought as he went on watch that afternoon. He would have preferred a roaring rainstorm to an indefinite spell under the sun. He discreetly fanned himself with his shirt as he paced the quarterdeck. Although the weather was starting to become stiflingly hot, he still had to be in full uniform whenever he was on duty.

For the first two days of this state of affairs, he decided to keep his gripes to himself. However by the third day, not even the prospect of small arms practice for the entire crew was enough to check his increasingly foul temper.

"It's not as if we can _summon_ the wind, Mr. Calamy," Pullings pointed out as they readied their pistols for practice. Several bottles had been suspended from the yardarms in order to serve as targets. Mr. Howard was showing off to the midshipmen how to handle a musket, while some of the crew were experimenting with crudely made guns and the occasional pistol.

"I know, but the crew is getting rather restless," Peter remarked. He could see some of the men of the watch whispering among themselves, most especially when Hollom was in the vicinity. "_Do they think he has anything to do with it?" _he wondered as he went to where Will was waiting for his turn to fire a musket. The young lieutenant shook his head at this, and handed one of his spare pistols to the midshipman.

Will raised an eyebrow at this. "What's this for, Sir?" he asked Peter.

"You're better off practicing with that. You can't handle a musket, Mr. Blakeney," Peter replied.

"I haven't even tried," Will said. However when he got a better look at the lengths of the muskets his shipmates were using, he sighed, knowing he would have a difficult time using the guns. "How am I supposed to fight in the battle then?"

"You can use pistols, of course. Knives, or some sort of blade too," Peter suggested. "I hear that Dr. Maturin is a capable fencer; you can ask him for help with that."

Will nodded doubtfully as he weighed in his hands the pistol Peter had given him. "I'll consider that. Thank you sir," he said.

Peter crossed to the starboard gangway, where he saw Victoria carrying a pistol of her own. "Where did you get that?" he asked her. He noticed that her hair was up in a kerchief to keep her neck cool, and that her gown was a little flimsier than usual.

"My father gave it to me, to protect me from highwaymen," Victoria replied candidly.

"Did he actually teach you how to use it?"

"No, but I...got some practice, elsewhere."

"_I'm not sure I want to know anymore what she meant," _Peter decided as he and Victoria found a good target to shoot at. "Ladies first," he said to Victoria. The young woman took a moment to aim before firing a little too far to the right.

"Still can't get it right. I might accidentally kill something," Victoria muttered under her breath on seeing that the bullet just barely scratched the bottle.

"Have you ever..." Peter began.

"Killed a man? No. I've gotten close to it though," she replied as she reloaded her pistol. "You?"

"A few times," Peter replied. He had been involved in some hand to hand combat situations before, but those never involved a contingent as ferocious as that of the Acheron. He raised his gun to fire, and managed to land a bullet towards the bottom of the bottle. "When we do attack the Acheron, you should be safely out of the way, Miss Hastings."

"I don't think that's going to happen, Mr. Calamy," she said, getting in line for her turn to fire again. This time she succeeded in shooting higher up towards the neck of the bottle. "I'm actually much better with handling a blade,' she said more proudly.

"It suits you," Peter agreed. Part of him wanted to suggest practicing this form of hand to hand combat, but he quickly reminded himself of the possible improprieties that situation lent itself to. "_Let's hope you won't have to actually use those skills," _he thought as he lined up his own gun again to fire.

Though the small arms practice was a good diversion for the rest of the day, it was not long till the heat grew more oppressive again, reducing most of the crew to lazy prostration while on watch. The next three days passed more miserably for the Surprise as food and water supplies dwindled.

On the sixth day of the Surprise being becalmed, Peter, having run out of things to do and having no desire to continue fretting, had taken to rewriting one of his letters while sitting on the quarterdeck. He heard an exclamation and a commotion from the area of the hatchway, only to find Will and Victoria there, inspecting a vial.

"What is this about now?" he asked them, motioning for them to get on the deck.

"The Doctor's examined the drinking water. It's quite...nasty," Victoria replied.

"Nasty?" Peter clarified.

"All kinds of creatures living in it. A Conferva soup, he said," Will explained. "Small creatures that might make it undrinkable."

Peter frowned, not quite understanding the scientific term that his friend had used. "Conferva or no Conferva, it's the only water we've got besides the grog," he said. Still, he had to admit that the water was starting to get an unpleasant feel about it. "_Where's rain when you want it?" _he wondered. He noticed Joe Plaice and Nagle walking by where Hollom stood. The older man made a cursory salute, but Nagle simply shoved by Hollom, knocking him hard.

"You there! Stand fast!" Captain Aubrey suddenly barked.

"Master at arms, bring that man below and clap him in irons. Defaulters at eight bells," Captain Aubrey ordered.

"_This is going to end in a flogging," _Peter realized. He had very rarely seen Captain Aubrey rig up the grating on the Surprise, but he was very aware of this practice being frequently employed on other ships. "What did Nagle do?" he asked Mowett discreetly.

"He failed to salute Mr. Hollom," Mowett replied, clearly dissatisfied with the matter.

"_Why am I not surprised?" _Peter thought. He noticed Victoria shaking her head at this. "Don't tell me this is new to you, Miss Hastings. Your father also had to instil discipline in his men."

"You have no idea how many near-mutinies he had to quell thanks to all his flogging," Victoria replied. "Being a flogging captain does not do well for a ship's crew, anyone can tell you that."

"This is the first time it's happening in this voyage. It may be the only time," Peter pointed out. "If Captain Aubrey doesn't check the offense now, the crew may engage in further insubordination."

"This is going to make Mr. Hollom look weak," Victoria argued. "Did you see the look on his face, Mr. Calamy?"

"I certainly did. He has to learn to assert command," Peter replied. "He can't just let men push past him like that."

Victoria shook her head. "Not everyone is like you, Mr. Calamy. You would do well to remember that," she said before excusing herself to go below decks and leaving Peter to his indignation.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Warning here for what Hollom is going to do. It's worse than in the movie. _

**Chapter 10: Punishments and Consequences**

"_It never gets better, no matter how often it happens," _Victoria thought as she stood on the gangway as soon as the crew had been mustered immediately after noon. She could not help but flinch at the very sight of the grating rigged up on deck. Though she had never actually _seen_ a flogging aboard her father's ships, having always been sent below decks before the actual proceedings, she was not deaf to the screams of the men being subjected to such disciplinary action.

As soon as everyone had removed their hats, Captain Aubrey read from the Articles of War: "'Article Thirty-six: All other crimes not capital committed by any person or persons in the fleet, which are not mentioned in this act, or for which no punishment is hereby directed to be inflicted, shall be punished by the laws and customs in such cases used at sea. " He looked directly at Nagle. "Joseph Nagle, carpenter's mate, you are hereby charged with insubordination, failing to salute an officer and refusing to make your obedience. Have you anything to say in your defense?"

Nagle's eyes were downcast, but his voice was clear. "No, Sir."

"Have his officers anything to say in his defense?" Captain Aubrey asked.

The quarterdeck remained silent. "_Peter is not going to say anything," _Victoria realized as she met the third lieutenant's eyes. She knew he had witnessed the incident, and that inasmuch as he belittled Hollom, he would not stand for having a midshipman being insulted in such a manner. She saw Captain Aubrey glance at Hollom, who merely swallowed uneasily and averted his eyes. The over-aged midshipman looked as if he wanted to disappear.

"Seize him up," Captain Aubrey ordered. Victoria knew this was the time for her to get below decks; women were not normally allowed to witness something as brutal as a flogging. She saw Nagle remove his shirt, then stand before the grating to let Bonden and Doudle lash his arms to it. She vaguely heard Captain Aubrey order the bosun to do his duty before she retreated to the sickbay.

Even if she couldn't hear Nagle's yells, Victoria still shuddered at the idea of what was going on above decks. "_A cat-o-nine tails can break a thin piece of wood, what more can it do to a man's flesh?" _she wondered as she readied what water could still be spared, and some bandages. Dr. Maturin would have his work cut out for him once the flogging was over.

It seemed like forever till the sickbay door opened, letting in Doudle, who was supporting a still shaking Nagle. "Mr. Hollar already went easy on 'im," Doudle said as he helped Nagle lie face down on the sickbay's lone table.

"I can tell," Victoria agreed. Nagle's back was red and bleeding with lashes, but at least he hadn't had most of his skin torn off, like she had once seen after a brutal 'flogging round the fleet' several years ago in Toulon.

"Hollom's a Jonah. No mistake about that," Nagle muttered, flinching as Victoria washed the blood off his abused back. "The barky is not getting anywhere unless something's done about him."

"No talk about that," Victoria snapped. "He's not the best man, here, true, but the Captain won't stand for any mischief being done to Mr. Hollom. You hear me, gents?"

"Lady's got some cheek," Doudle said with a laugh. "No matter; if anyone lays a hand on him, you and the Doctor can put him back on his feet, eh?"

"Enough," Victoria replied more sternly, tying up a last bandage. "Any more talk about this, you might be facing more than just the grating."

"Taking Hollom's side, little Miss?" Doudle said more threateningly.

Victoria drew herself up to her full height. "I know contempt when I see it, gentlemen, and I won't stand for it."

Nagle sat up slowly. "What are you going to do, tell Mr. Calamy or the Captain about it?"

"If you give me reason to," Victoria replied calmly. It was all she could do not to give a fearful glance to the sickbay door. If Nagle and Doudle laid hands on her now, there was no way she could take them on by herself.

The two men exchanged glances, and Doudle opened his mouth as if to say something moments before the sickbay door opened. "Ah, Miss Hastings, I'm sorry for the delay," Dr. Maturin said apologetically by way of greeting.

"I bandaged up Nagle's back, Sir. I must speak with you later about our supplies," Victoria said, making a quick curtsy before leaving sickbay. There was no way she wanted to be around the two foremast jacks in their belligerent mood. She ran quickly to her berth, ignoring the glances of the other hands and the whispers they were trading.

She took a deep breath as she closed the door of her berth behind her. It was no secret on board that she and Peter were close, and that she was likely to report to him any misdemeanour she observed in the crew. "_Only they don't know that I don't agree with my friend about how he treats Hollom, no matter if he has a point in trying to get him to assert more command," _she realized. The condescending glares and reprimands that Peter was constantly giving Hollom had not escaped her notice either and she wondered how to get him to be less abrasive.

After a moment she decided to grab a book and head back up to the deck. When she arrived there, she saw Hollom standing on the starboard side, looking rather downcast. "Mr. Hollom? Are you feeling fine, Sir?" she asked him courteously. While she could not consider herself any intimate friend of Hollom, she knew she had no reason to bear him ill will or desist from making friendly conversation.

Hollom managed a nod. "I'll be well, Miss Hastings." He sucked in a deep breath. "Good thing you didn't see the flogging."

"I saw the results," Victoria replied. "About this, well I'm sure the men will think differently once we get our wind back. You'll see."

"I hope you're right," Hollom said. "It's not just this lack of wind though, Miss Hastings. It's everything. You know what they've been saying? My entire gun crew is dead except for me. Each time we've had the Acheron sneak up on us, it was during my watch. I climbed that mizzen mast and it breaks and Warley drowns. Can you blame them?"

"Coincidences!" Victoria scoffed.

Hollom's eyes were grave as he shook his head. "I wish I could think that, Miss Hastings." He bowed before going to see to something on the gangway.

"_If the crew keeps this up, he will definitely lose his nerve," _Victoria thought as she found a seat at the stern of the ship. Yet hopefully this little spell would pass and the men would see that Hollom had nothing to do with their run of ill luck. Now and then she glanced up from her book to watch what was happening on the deck. So far no one dared to make the mistake of neglecting to salute Hollom, but the looks being cast his way were increasingly sullen and even bordering on venomous.

She looked up as Will sat beside her. "I don't like what's happening, Miss Victoria," the boy said in a low voice.

"Nor do I. But I can't do anything. I've seen this sort of thing under my father's command, and it never ends well," Victoria replied.

"You don't believe he's cursed, do you?" the midshipman asked.

"I don't believe in curses. If I did, I'd never sail."

Will chuckled a little at this. "Are women supposed to be bad luck on a ship?"

"Depends who you ask. Normally we aren't allowed aboard because of what we supposedly do to the men," Victoria said in a conspiratorial whisper.

The boy's eyes widened. "Like what?"

"Well, you'd best ask Peter about that," Victoria replied quickly, hoping she didn't turn red. Besides, she decided that dealing with Will's questions would give the young lieutenant something else to do today besides tyrannize over Hollom.

"I've asked him sometimes about things, and he's always evaded my questions," Will said, obviously disappointed. "He says I'm too young to understand it."

"Well, he's right. You've got plenty of time to learn," she said. "Just not on this voyage, if it can be helped," she added as an afterthought.

"Perhaps I should just ask Dr. Maturin," Will mused. He brought a piece of paper out of his jacket. "I sketched this yesterday. What do you think of it?"

"Lovely. Your skill with your left hand is improving," Victoria said approvingly as she surveyed Will's sketch of a frigate bird perched on the rigging. Even with her right hand whole, she knew she could not manage to draw as skilfully as her friend did. "You show this sketch to Dr. Maturin, and he will add it in whatever book he's writing about natural history, I'm sure."

Will grinned as he got to his feet. "It's my watch soon. See you later."

Victoria nodded as she watched her friend walk off to the gangway to engage in a friendly chat with Hollom. "_Poor man, only one friend aboard. I hope he doesn't forget it," _she thought.

The rest of the day passed without incident, though the stubborn calm still reigned over the waters and no puff of wind came to the Surprise's sails. Victoria took the opportunity of a lull after supper to bring up to Dr. Maturin the conversation she had with Nagle and Doudle earlier that afternoon. "I'm worried they might do a Jonah's lift or something drastic to Mr. Hollom," she said by way of finishing her account.

Dr. Maturin shook his head. "They're a superstitious lot; you should know that, Miss Hastings. It will take another run of luck or a different sort of omen to change their opinion." He handed her a stack of drawings to put aside. "In the meantime, it might be best if he stays with the other midshipmen, preferably Mr. Blakeney, just to ensure his safety."

At that moment a flurry of footsteps sounded outside the sickbay. "Drat it all, Mr. Hollom! Dr. Maturin, Miss Hastings, are you there?" Peter asked, knocking on the door.

"Come in, Mr. Calamy. What seems to be the problem?" Dr. Maturin asked.

"Mr. Hollom again." The lieutenant didn't bother hiding his irritated look as he pointed to the wretched looking midshipman standing nearby with Will. "He's been blustering about and saying he feels ill."

"Maybe he really _is_," Victoria retorted, handing to Dr. Maturin some of his medical instruments. "He's not going to feel better with your perpetually belittling him. "

"Miss Hastings, I think I'll manage with Mr. Blakeney's help. You and Mr. Calamy are free to go elsewhere," Dr. Maturin said, motioning for Victoria to get Peter away from the sickbay.

Peter was indignant as he and Victoria walked up to the quarterdeck. "He was just shamming, Miss Hastings," he said through gritted teeth as they found the corner furthest away from the hatchway. "There's nothing wrong with him."

"Shamming? Did you see how pale he was?" Victoria said, not caring if she raised her voice loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear. "This day has been a nightmare for him!"

"He can't keep on acting weak or the men will continue to disrespect him," Peter argued. "He's nearly thirty and still a midshipman. What does that say about him?"

"You treat him with contempt because of that?" Victoria retorted, putting her hands akimbo. "I don't care if you're a lieutenant already and he's still a midshipman; it's still disrespectful for you to behave this way. You wouldn't do this if we were elsewhere, like at home."

"This is a ship of the King's navy. If an officer can't command respect, everything goes by the board," Peter pointed out, crossing his arms. "You're not an officer. You cannot expect to understand what is being expected of a man in Hollom's position."

Victoria balled up her hands into fists, already reaching the very limits of her frustration. "What would your father say if he heard you right now?" she said angrily, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

Peter narrowed his eyes at the young woman. "Don't you ever bring my father into this, Miss Hastings," he said, his voice low and furious over the ringing of the bell signalling the next watch.

"Mr. Calamy? There you are," Pullings said by way of greeting as he arrived on the quarterdeck.

"Yes, I know it's my watch," Peter replied, saluting to the more senior lieutenant.

Pullings glanced quizzically from Peter to Victoria. "Was I interrupting something?"

"No, Mr. Pullings. Good night to you, gentlemen," Victoria said, giving a cursory nod before returning below decks. She could hear Dr. Maturin still trying to calm down Hollom in the sickbay, as well as the crew trying to eavesdrop on this conversation. "_It's never going to stop," _she thought as she let herself into her own berth.

She made herself ready to go to sleep, but found that rest eluded her. "_Damn this heat!" _she thought as she tossed and turned in her hammock. "_This is crazy," _she thought after several hours as she threw a shawl hurriedly over her dress. Hopefully someone like Will or Dr. Maturin was still awake, so she could ease her troubled mind and her conscience.

"Just you wait and see," she heard Joe Plaice say from where he was gathered with some of the men. "He's calling it up."

"Who?" another one of the jacks asked.

"The Jonah. Some time in the night, that ship's going to appear...and take us all with it, straight to the hot place."

Doudle elbowed Joe Plaice. "She's listening," he said in an undertone.

Victoria, realizing that she was now spotted, turned to flee. As she ran, she nearly bumped into Hollom, who seemed to be headed for the berths while carrying something under his arm. She greeted him, only to elicit a brief smile from him as he tipped his hat to her.

Despite the heat of the night it was almost a relief for her to step out above decks. She noticed Peter on the quarterdeck, but chose to ignore him. Instead she stood on the gangway, giving an acknowledging nod to Will when he happened to walk by.

"I spoke with Mr. Hollom. He said he was feeling much better," Will told her in an obviously relieved tone. "He says we'll get our wind tomorrow."

"I'm glad to hear it," Victoria replied.

Will gestured to the lieutenant standing watch on the quarterdeck. "Are you and Peter quarrelling? He seems quite cross."

"We had some words," Victoria said tactfully. She wasn't about to admit that she had brought up the subject of Peter's father; it was one thing she and Will had been careful to avoid mentioning over the years. It was mean of her, and she knew it. "_Serves him right anyway for how he's acting," _she told herself.

Will nodded as the bell rang again. "Maybe you should try talking to him again tomorrow."

"If I even wish to," Victoria muttered, following Will to the hatchway. As they reached the berth deck, she heard a thud from the vicinity of the gunroom.

Will turned to see Peter behind them. "Was that you?" he asked his friend.

The lieutenant shook his head. "There's a stool there," he noted, pointing to a fallen piece of furniture in the gunroom. He stepped forward and looked to the side. His ruddy face went as pale as a sheet."Mr. Blakeney, get the doctor right now. Miss Hastings, please help me get Mr. Hollom down."

"What?" Victoria asked, stepping forward. Her stomach lurched when she saw a pair of boots swinging in the air. "Oh sweet Jesus, he didn't..." she murmured, hardly hearing Will fleeing towards the sickbay to fetch Dr. Maturin.

Peter could not bring himself to look at the midshipman's slightly bluish face as he worked the noose loose. Victoria caught Hollom by his legs and helped Peter lower him to the ground.

"He's still breathing, just barely," Peter said, his voice on the verge of trembling.

Victoria could not bring herself to take Hollom's pulse, but she chafed his wrist. "He's still warm.

At this point, Dr. Maturin and Captain Aubrey rushed over, obviously having been roused from their beds by this news. Will trailed behind them, obviously distraught. "Clear out so I can examine him," Dr. Maturin instructed, getting to his knees beside the unfortunate midshipman and removing what was left of the noose around his neck.

"Is he still alive?" Will asked, near to tears.

"He might stand a chance for as long as there's no dislocation of the neck bones. Which there isn't, so that is a good sign for him," Dr. Maturin replied. His face turned grim as he lifted one of Hollom's eyelids. "However he might have cut off oxygen to his brain long enough so as to make regaining consciousness rather difficult."

"When did this happen?" Captain Aubrey asked the onlookers.

"We found him like this just now," Peter replied.

Victoria shivered, realizing now what Hollom must have had under his arm the last time she'd seen him. "Only minutes maybe. I saw him when I was going up to the quarterdeck. He looked fine. I didn't think he was going to do such a thing to himself." She took a deep breath to keep herself from crying. "_If only, if only..." _

"You never know. Despair has a way of masking itself," Dr. Maturin said. "He might wake up yet. Padeen and I will sit up with him. The three of you should get some rest," he added, directing the last part to Peter, Will, and Victoria.

Peter reached out to help Victoria to her feet. "You should get back to your berth."

Victoria looked him in the eye. "If Mr. Hollom does not wake up from this, I'm never speaking to you again," she said before going to help Dr. Maturin move the still unconscious Hollom back into the sickbay.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Glaring Light of Day**

It was half past seven in the morning when the first puffs of wind began bending the Surprise's sails. "_It's what you wanted to see, wasn't it?" _Peter asked himself silently as he watched the crew muster again some time after noon that same day. He had been unable to sleep following the harrowing events of the night before, despite his imbibing a copious amount of grog in an attempt to hasten slumber. Then Dr. Maturin had announced that Hollom had passed on at daybreak, despite efforts to resuscitate him.

He could not bring himself to even look at the body wrapped in hammock on the ship's deck. As far as he knew, Will and Victoria had taken charge of stitching up Hollom's body; none of the crew, not even the midshipman, would dare to go near the corpse of a suicide, and a mostly bungled one at that. "_Damn it all, Peter, you didn't see this coming," _he berated himself. Yet he knew that no excuses could be made any more for his behaviour. "_If you'd really meant to correct him, you would have said things differently." _

The sound of the bell tolling sent a jolt of pain through the young lieutenant's head. He knew he needed to sleep before his next turn to go on watch. For now though he willed himself to stand at attention as Captain Aubrey took an open Bible from Killick. The captain took one look at the book, closed it and handed it back before removing his hat.

Captain Aubrey waited for the rest of the crew to uncover before beginning, "The simple truth is not all of us become the men we once hoped we might be. But we are all God's creatures. "His eyes seemed to search the crew. "If there are those among us who thought ill of Mr Hollom, or spoke ill of him, or failed him in respect of fellowship... then we ask for your forgiveness, Lord. And we ask for his."

Peter looked down, feeling as if he should have spoken up to say something by way of a kinder send-off for Hollom, but the words did not come to his lips. "_I didn't know him at all," _he told himself. He glanced towards where the midshipmen stood. Of the young trio, only Will seemed to show any sadness, Boyle and Williamson looked as if they wanted the awkward proceedings to end as soon as possible. In the entire ship's company, only Victoria dared to weep, at least judging by her red and swollen eyes.

He watched as two of the men slid Hollom's body onto a board, and let it slip over the side into the sea. No proper Christian burial could be made for the midshipman, owing to the circumstances of his death. The sense of relief was nearly palpable though among the crew; as far as they'd been concerned, they'd been rid of a Jonah, and life could proceed as if the entire dire episode had never transpired.

As Peter went to the hatchway, in hopes of taking a nap in his berth, he caught sight of Victoria headed in the same direction. "Miss Hastings," he greeted awkwardly, only to receive a withering look from the woman before she went below decks.

"On the outs with her, Mr. Calamy?" Mowett asked sympathetically, clearly having seen the entire scene.

"Only a minor disagreement," Peter replied. He had no desire to let anyone else, except perhaps Will and Dr. Maturin, know any of the particulars of his tiff with Victoria.

"I heard she sat up with Mr. Hollom before he passed," Mowett said. "At least the poor man did not die alone."

"She and Mr. Blakeney were with him," Peter pointed out, his tone more clipped than usual. "I must get some rest. It was a long night for me."

"About Mr. Hollom's death...don't blame yourself for it," Mowett advised. "You had to act as an officer, like Tom and I would have. The men had no right to behave that way, no matter what they thought of him."

"It could have gone better though," Peter said. "Miss Hastings seems to blame me for it."

"Isn't that true for most things in this life?" Mowett clapped him on the shoulder. "You get some rest now, lad. As for Miss Hastings, she can't stay angry at you forever, not if you're to survive on the same ship."

Peter managed a smile and a polite nod before going to his berth. Now that the Surprise was underway again, the men were much more energetic in going about their duties. Maybe Joe Plaice or some of the older hands would have a story or two to tell about Hollom's ghost haunting the ship, but overall, it seemed as if little could dampen now the spirits of the men. The talk of the possibility of rain soon coming to the ship was welcome news as well to the rather thirsty crew.

When he awoke, he heard rain falling on the deck. "_Finally!" _he thought as he hurried back above decks, leaving his hat in his small room. Every barrel, bucket and possible receptacle was placed outside now for the crew to collect as much water as possible. Even the sails had been stretched out in order to catch extra water for washing and other uses besides drinking. Most of the crew was also taking advantage of the chance to wash their hair, bathe, or simply cool off. Even Hogg and his fellow whalers were sitting along the rails, enjoying the opportunity to really get clean following their unfortunate shipwreck.

"Just when I thought all the dirt would stick to me," Slade laughed as he let his friends pour water on him. He grinned as he saluted Peter. "Washing your clothes while you're wearing them, Mr. Calamy?"

"Nothing of that sort, Slade," Peter retorted. The rainwater was cool and refreshing on his face, and truth be told, he didn't really mind that his second-best uniform was soaked. He stopped to let some of the ship's younger boys run past in whatever game they were playing. The deck was filled with shouts and laughter, a clear sign of the ship somehow coming back to life.

As he stepped to the side, he nearly tripped over a small tub of clothes put out to soak. "_At least Victoria has enough sense to use rainwater for washing her clothes instead of tapping from the barrels later," _he thought as he carefully moved the receptacle aside. On other ships, the officers constantly had tiffs with women on board wherever the water supply was concerned. However Victoria was raised aboard ships, and somehow she knew better.

He saw the lady sitting up near the forecastle, with her dark hair hanging loose and her feet bare. She was laughing at something one of the crewmen had said. For some reason he could not explain, seeing this was enough to make Peter feel as if he'd swallowed something too hot. "_You can't force her to forgive you straightaway," _he reminded himself.

The trouble was that the stalemate lasted for more than just a day. The rain came and went, the wind continued to stay with the Surprise as it sailed west, yet Victoria hardly even looked Peter's way. In fact she had even gone as far as excusing herself from the gunroom or the quarterdeck whenever he was in the area. Peter could not do anything more than continue to keep up with his duties as if nothing had happened, and hope that the rest of the crew, especially the midshipmen, would stop prying and talking about the matter.

The change he had been hoping for happened rather unexpectedly one bright morning. A rather great bird was flying in and out of the rigging, swooping now and then towards the deck. "Looks like it's some sort of albatross," Bonden noted.

"Wonder what it's doing here," Peter said bemusedly. While he had definitely seen birds make a sort of game out of circling the rigging, he had not known them to linger as long as this one did. He caught sight of Will with a sketchpad in hand, trying to get a good view of the bird. "Here, you'd best stay on the forecastle, the view is clearer there," he said, lending a hand to help his friend over.

Will smiled as he climbed up to a good seat and set down his sketchpad on his lap. "It's probably looking for some food. I wonder what it's interested in."

"Maybe someone's left fish out?" Peter suggested.

Will shook his head, ducking as the bird swooped near them. "Maybe it's larking about?"

Peter couldn't resist laughing at this quip. He saw Dr. Maturin talking to Bonden, while on the gangway Mr. Howard was trying to get a clear shot at the bird. The albatross swooped down and nearly scraped Dr. Maturin's head, eliciting a round of laughs from the crew.

"It's circling lads!" someone shouted. Just then the bird dropped low moments before a shot rang through the deck.

"Doctor? My God, Doctor!" Captain Howard yelled, running towards Dr. Maturin, who had fallen to his knees, clutching his side. "I'm sorry man, the bird dropped low...I didn't see you!"

Captain Aubrey was at Dr. Maturin's side, helping the wounded man unbutton his coat. A vivid red stain was now blossoming over his white shirt. "Mr. Calamy, get Higgins," he called.

Peter lost no time in sprinting to the sickbay. As fate would have it, he collided with Victoria, who was headed for the hatchway. "Careful now!" she snapped, clutching at a piece of wood to regain her footing. "What's with you?"

"Dr. Maturin's been shot," Peter replied quickly, failing to notice that Victoria had spoken to him, or that she had even cried out in a panic and hurried up to the gangway. Peter threw the sickbay door open, surprising Higgins who had been about to dip into the doctor's supply of laudanum.

"Where was he shot?" Higgins asked as soon as the lieutenant relayed the news.

"Right in the belly," Peter said. "Hurry up man!"

A pasty faced Higgins rushed above decks to see what he could do. Peter shook his head as he noted the disorderly state of the sickbay. As he picked up a book that Higgins had dropped, he caught sight of a piece of paper trapped under a table. Despite the numerous crossed out lines and blotches, he was able to recognize the beginnings of a letter that Victoria had been working on.

_My dear father,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well, whether you are in Malta, Gibraltar, or even home in England. _

_ So far, this trip aboard the Surprise has proved to be the most dramatic commission I've been with yet. We've had the best of luck and the worst of luck. Not many deaths, but what mortalities we've had have been truly unfortunate. Today one of our midshipmen, Mr. Wallace Hollom, passed on after trying to hang himself. I suppose you might have heard of him; he was in Gibraltar too for a time. He was believed to be a Jonah by the crew; in fact Captain Aubrey had to flog a man who had the cheek to disrespect Mr. Hollom about it. _

_ Apart from the usual difficulties that a woman must face at sea, my life here is quite happy. There is much reading that Dr. Maturin lets me do. Young Lord Blakeney, Lord Garron's son, has also been taking an interest in natural history, so now Dr. Maturin has no rest from his inquiries or mine about the subject. We had intended to go to the Galapagos for a few days, but the business of assisting our whalers was far too urgent, and Captain Aubrey had to force us to abandon our scientific venture. It was hard on the poor Doctor. _

_ Mr. Calamy is here on the Surprise too. He is shaping up to be a good officer in his own right. While we do not always agree on everything, he has been among the few people I can speak to on a regular basis. I assure you that he has been a perfect gentleman, and I have been conducting myself properly around him-_

He heard a step in the doorway of the sickbay and he quickly stowed the letter in his jacket pocket. "Here, we have to set him on the table," he heard Victoria say. He looked up to see Davies helping Padeen get Dr. Maturin into the sickbay. Higgins in the meantime was racing for some cloths and water to help staunch the bleeding from the wound.

Peter went to help Victoria clear the table to allow Dr. Maturin to lie more comfortably on it. "I'll handle it, Mr. Calamy," the woman said, motioning for him to set down the books and bottles he'd picked up off the table.

"I won't get in your way," Peter said, nodding to her stiffly before clearing out of the sickbay. A good many of the crew were crowded outside the door, waiting for Higgins to complete his examination of the wounded doctor. At last he heard Higgins say something to Captain Aubrey about a piece of shirt that had been sucked inside the bullet wound. If the offending piece was not removed right away, the wound would suppurate and fester.

"Are you equal to the task?" Captain Aubrey asked.

Higgins swallowed hard. "Well, I'll need to read up on the doctor's books, like. Study some pictures he has."

Captain Aubrey looked puzzled. "Study some pictures?"

"It's just to get my bearings, that's all," Higgins replied. He tugged at his collar. "Well, it'd be a lot easier if I were on dry land. You know, you wouldn't have the... I'll manage. You'll see. Miss Hastings can help me."

Peter noticed Victoria scowling at this, as if she was upset by Higgins' words. "_Is she scared he won't manage it?" _he wondered. Before he ask her about this, she had gone to help Padeen ease Dr. Maturin into a hammock.

"He's going to recover, is he?" he heard Boyle ask from behind him.

"I hope so," Peter replied. "_Though how many men do get up from a shot in the gut?" _he wondered. He'd seen the results before in battle, and they were not particularly reassuring. He saw Will running towards the sickbay, but he did not stop the midshipman from entering. The boy exchanged a few words with Victoria before sitting down at Dr. Maturin's bedside.

"Let him get some rest," Captain Aubrey told the rest of the crew. He nodded to Mr. Howard, who looked wretched and contrite. As the two men conferred en route to the gunroom, Peter took the opportunity to slip into the sickbay.

Dr. Maturin nodded to him, not hiding the grimace on his face. "Thank you for getting Higgins, Mr. Calamy," he said in a strained voice.

"You're welcome, but don't strain yourself, Sir," Peter replied, hoping he did not sound too terrified. He reached into his jacket for the note he'd retrieved, and he placed it in Victoria's lap. "I found this lying around, Miss Hastings," he said.

Victoria swallowed hard as she pocketed the note. "You read it, didn't you?"

"Not all of it," Peter admitted. "I'm sorry about what happened, with Mr. Hollom-"

"There's nothing you and I can do about it anymore," Victoria cut in curtly.

"Victoria, he's only trying to apologize," Will chimed in.

Peter straightened up, knowing now not to push the issue any longer. "I will not disturb you any longer. I'm sorry for the interruption," he said before taking his leave of the sickbay. He couldn't help but grit his teeth, wondering once again what he could do to ever find forgiveness.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And now on for the romance. _

**Chapter 12: On Surer Ground**

As the Surprise continued to pursue its westerly course, Victoria already knew to expect sleepless nights ahead of her. "_Mr. Howard really should have watched where he was pointing that damned musket of his," _she told herself as she rubbed her eyes. It had been a day since the unfortunate incident on the gangway, and she'd spent the time trading watches with Padeen and occasionally with Will, when the latter wasn't on duty at the deck. Higgins also sat up with the Doctor, but most of his attention was occupied with trying to understand the diagrams and sketches in the anatomy books on board.

"Confusing business this is," Higgins said, wiping his brow. "Could you hand me that glass there, Miss Hastings? I need to see this better."

"_He'd see better if I tipped his alcohol and laudanum over the side," _Victoria thought. Of course there was no way she could do that; the alcohol was a privilege most seamen felt strongly about, and the laudanum would be necessary for the time they would have to operate on Dr. Maturin. She glanced over at the wounded man, who was sleeping fitfully. His skin had taken on an ashen tone, and a sheen of sweat had broken out on his brow. "_He looks worse than Will did with his arm," _she realized.

"Delirious now, is he?" Higgins said, gesturing to the Doctor.

"Maybe," Victoria whispered, getting a cloth to wipe Dr. Maturin's forehead.

She looked up as Bonden entered the sickbay. "Sail on the horizon Sir, running west. We're not sure, but we think it's her Sir," the coxswain said, trying to sound reasonably cheerful.

Dr. Maturin managed only a weak nod. Bonden's smile turned grim before he raised his knuckle to his forehead and left the sickbay. Padeen bowed his head and began murmuring something in Gaelic to soothe the injured man. Higgins turned pale and went back to his reading. As for Victoria, she had to get up to stretch her limbs. For a moment she felt a little thrilled that at last, the Surprise was on the tail of its quarry. Soon she and Dr. Maturin would be able to solve the problem of the spy Cunningham and whatever papers he had on him.

Yet a glance at the Doctor's face was enough to send a chill through Victoria. "_Who's going to take care of the wounded men if we come to close quarters?" _she wondered. She swallowed hard as she looked at her own hands; while she was now fairly adept at dressing wounds, removing splinters, and setting some sprains, she knew nothing of dealing with stabbings, gunshot wounds and broken bones. "_Can't stitch a man back together," _she thought as she wrung her hands.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps overhead; perhaps the crew was now beating to quarters. "Higgins, you might want to clear the table," she said.

"Action already?" the surgeon's mate asked her. He hiccupped as he closed the book in front of him. "Hope my reading is enough to get us through."

Victoria tried not to wince on smelling the rum on Higgins' breath. Suddenly she heard a creaking overhead, a clear sign of the Surprise changing course. "_What for?" _she wondered as she snatched up her shawl and walked up to the gun deck.

"We've turned roundabout," Doudle said when he saw the woman.

"We're giving up the chase?" Victoria asked incredulously. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from asking why.

"Captain's orders. Maybe it wasn't the Frenchie after all," Doudle said, tossing his lucky coin in the air and catching it. "Don't know how we'd fight her anyway, even if we hacked with all the knives we've got aboard."

Victoria smiled wryly, remembering the wooden model of the Acheron that Nagle had created, so many weeks ago. "I'm sure he has a plan, Doudle. We've just got to trust in that."

"He is Lucky Jack after all," Doudle said, returning her smile. "How's the Doctor doing?"

The woman bit her lip. "He has to hang on a little longer," she said. She knew that Higgins was in no shape to carry out the operation; at the rate he was going he was likely to slip and kill Dr. Maturin. Yet she knew that she was in no position to cast doubt over her shipmate. "_You've already made a mess of things with Peter, and you don't need any more messes," _she told herself.

She knew she had every right to be angry in the immediate aftermath of Hollom's death. So many people were to blame, either for their actively tormenting Hollom, or for simply not stepping in sooner to be more compassionate to him. "_If you take that last category into account, you also have his blood on your hands," _she thought. Yet she realized now that none of her vitriol could undo the past or even mend her shaky friendship with Peter. "_He only acted according to what he was taught about command, like most officers would have_."

As quietly as she could, Victoria walked up to the quarterdeck and found only Captain Aubrey and Pullings there. "Good morning," she greeted as demurely as she could.

"Good morning Miss Hastings. Any news about the Doctor?" Captain Aubrey asked.

"I wish I had good news. He's fighting though," she replied gravely. "Higgins is still at his reading. He hasn't said when he'll operate."

"We'll be on dry land soon. That should give him some confidence," Captain Aubrey said. The strain in his voice was very evident. "Tell me if there is any change, or if he takes any sort of turn."

"I shall," Victoria replied. She waited till Captain Aubrey had gone to speak to someone on the forecastle before looking at Pullings. "Have you seen Mr. Calamy?" she asked.

"He's off watch. Probably napping in his berth," Pullings replied. "Between you and me, he's been a little out of sorts," he added more confidentially.

"He's not ill too I hope?"

"Nothing of that sort, Miss. You know how he is though when he's in a temper."

"Of course. He's been a fool and so have I," Victoria said, nearly shaking her head at the thought. She smoothed down her dress. "Never mind. I shall speak with him when he's awake."

"I'm sure he'd welcome that," Pullings said, giving her a smile that would have been mischievous had they not been aboard the Surprise. He looked towards where Bonden and some of the men had their hands on the wheel. "Keep up with the easting, Bonden. We mustn't delay."

"_Easting! We're returning to the Galapagos!" _she realized. It was all she could do to keep from running down and breaking the news to Dr. Maturin, but until she was certain of their destination she knew she was better off not saying a word. Yet even this inference was enough to put her on the edge, such that she had taken to counting down the hours and making a reckoning of sorts till they would be in sight of land. She had to bite her lip while she sat in the sickbay, refusing to answer any questions that Higgins or any visitor would put to her.

It was late afternoon though when Victoria realized that the timepiece she'd been using had stopped some hours ago. "_So much for nautical calculations!" _she berated herself. "Mr. Blakeney, is your watch working?" she asked the midshipman who'd come to visit.

"It's been rusted," Will answered. "But I think Peter always keeps his in order."

"The very thing I wanted to hear, Will," Victoria said, ruffling the boy's hair before hurrying to the gunroom. When she didn't find Peter there, she rushed up to the quarterdeck. Many of the men were gathered there, hauling on ropes and adjusting the sails.

"Land ahoy!" Boyle yelled from the bow of the Surprise. Only a few miles to the larboard side was the distinct shape of an island. Some birds were flying towards it, clearly intent on roosting for the night.

Victoria clasped her shawl more tightly around her, forgetting now all about her search for a timepiece. The wind was in her face, messing up all her efforts to keep her hair neat. She caught sight of Peter conferring with Mr. Allen and the bosun on the gangway. He happened to look in her direction, and she smiled at him before he averted his eyes.

In short order, the Surprise finally arrived at the isle of Albermarle. While the lieutenants directed the men in setting up gangways and setting up camp, Captain Aubrey went to personally help move the Doctor to dry land. In less than an hour, a tent was rigged up for Higgins to use for the surgery.

Victoria made sure that she would be the one to see to setting up the actual table and the instruments for operating. "They'll be on hand, Doctor. Higgins shouldn't have much of a problem, even with him being jittery," she said to the wounded man.

Dr. Maturin took a labored breath. "I'll be doing this with my own hand, Miss Hastings." He pointed to the glass of laudanum she'd measured earlier. "I will not need that."

The woman's eyes widened when she realized what Dr. Maturin was about to do. "Is it safe? No, I mean, how will you _see_ what you're doing?" she asked, amending her question on seeing the doctor narrow his eyes.

"I'll have a mirror," Dr. Maturin said with a wry grin. "Now just have some bandages ready. I'll be in good hands."

Victoria nodded, understanding now that Dr. Maturin was determined not to put his life in the hands of his mostly incapable surgeon's mate. "God guide you, Doctor," she said, clasping his hand lightly before turning back to her work.

In a few moments, Captain Aubrey entered the tent, followed by Higgins and Padeen. "All set, Higgins?" the captain asked the surgeon's mate.

"Yes Sir," Higgins replied.

"No, I do this with my own hand," Dr. Maturin said insistently.

Captain Aubrey gave a worried and sceptical smile. "If everything is under control, I'll just be outside."

"A spare pair of steady hands won't go amiss. That is, if you have the constitution for this sort of thing," Dr. Maturin said. He motioned for Padeen to hold up the mirror and for Captain Aubrey to press on his stomach. "Miss Hastings, could you please hold that light nearer?"

The young woman adjusted the lamp and held it closer to the Doctor's bedside. It was all she could do not to look at Dr. Maturin's hands at work, or at what was in Padeen's mirror. However she could not close her ears to Dr. Maturin's instructions, or to the pained whimper he let out when Higgins raised a rib.

At last Higgins held up something while Captain Aubrey applied pressure. "Is that all of it?" Dr. Maturin asked.

"Aye sir," a relieved Higgins replied, showing the bullet and the piece of bloodstained shirt which Dr. Maturin extracted. "She'll patch up nicely."

"Thank God I got it," Dr. Maturin said, sounding a little less pained. "Thank you," he said to the rest of the group in the tent, though his smile was reserved especially for Captain Aubrey. "Miss Hastings, please bring over the bandages. Higgins will help you with the stitching."

The work of dressing and bandaging the wound was not as messy as Victoria expected. She caught sight of the rest of the crew outside, waiting for news. The relieved expressions on Captain Aubrey's and Padeen's faces were enough to reassure the entire company.

"Good thing we landed back on the Galapagos. Couldn't have done it on a moving boat," Higgins said as he and Victoria put away the surgical implements.

"At any rate, it's a good night's work," Victoria agreed. As soon as Dr. Maturin was comfortable and on the verge of falling asleep, she excused herself from the tent.

For a moment she was confused as she walked away from the tent; there were tents and makeshift shelters everywhere, and some of the men had stoked up a campfire in an attempt to have an actual hot dinner. Some of the men congratulated her on the successful operation done on Dr. Maturin, though she insisted that the credit ought to go to the doctor himself as well as to Higgins and Captain Aubrey. She wandered for a bit till at last she found Peter standing a little way from the campfire, watching as some of the men struck up a jig.

She nodded to him as she walked up. "You don't seem content to just stand here, Mr. Calamy," she said by way of greeting.

He smiled at her. "Only for want of company. Can I do anything for you, Miss Hastings?"

Victoria sighed at this too-formal tone her friend was using. "I wanted to tell you that I accept your apology. I apologize as well for shunning you when you were only trying to make amends." She took a deep breath before looking at Peter again. "Can you forgive me?"

Peter paused before nodding. "It was my fault. I could have acted more kindly, more like a gentleman," he said. "I've been rash."

"So have I. There is no use in pointing fingers though, it will not undo anything." She had to pause before continuing. "I do not wish to lose your friendship."

"I don't think that could happen," the young man replied. "We have been friends for far too long to simply set it aside because of a disagreement or two."

She fiddled with the edge of her shawl, unsure what to make of what he said. It seemed now as if the word 'friends' did not have the same ring to it as it once had. She bit her lip, determined to change the topic. "That letter you found, how far did you read?"

Peter's cheeks turned redder at this question. "Only to the portion when you were describing me to your father."

Victoria felt her own cheeks growing hot, now remembering what else she had intended to write in that missive. "I was putting in a good word for you. I intended to assure him that we've been nothing but a gentleman and a lady to each other." She had to bite her lip again lest she accidentally let slip on how he was always on her thoughts lately. How would he take such a confession from her?

"That is a very interesting way of stating it," Peter said after a few moments. "Though you've always been a lady."

"Now under scrutiny thanks to being here," Victoria laughed. She searched his face, wondering why mirth seemed to come so slowly to him on this night. "Something is on your mind, Mr. Calamy. Is there something troubling you?"

The young man took a deep breath. "Troubling isn't the word for it."

"A preoccupation then," she said. "Man, vegetable, animal, or mineral?"

"Don't mock me, Victoria," Peter said. "It's not something I consider trifling."

"Then what is it?"

Peter turned to look her in the face. "You. I can't stand having you angry with me. Nor can I stand seeing you put yourself in danger, or seeing you unhappy."

"You've always looked out for me. If ever, I should be finding a way to repay the favor."

"You misunderstand me. I think I love you."

For a moment, Victoria thought she had imagined the entire thing. What had possessed Peter to say such a thing? "You _love_ me? How?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Peter said. He averted his gaze. "Maybe I was being too forward, Miss Hastings. I'm sorry."

"No, don't say that," Victoria said, stepping closer to him. Somehow, the story of the past few months began making more sense to her, or she was seeing it all in a different light. She reached for his hand and touched his rough knuckles lightly. "Sometimes you're too much of a gentleman to me, Peter."

"I have to be. You're a commodore's daughter."

"Am I going to be only that to you?"

His smile grew wry and a little wistful. "That depends entirely now on you, Victoria."

The way he said her name was enough to clear away whatever resolve she may have had to turn him down. "You were never just a midshipman or lieutenant to me," she said.

"Not even at the beginning?"

"Well, you took some getting accustomed to."

He smiled as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her palm. "I never thought I would have ever the chance to tell you this."

She couldn't resist laughing at this. "You never thought I'd be sailing with you either." She let him continue to hold her hand as they watched the merriment in the camp, content with each other's company for the rest of the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: On Idyll**

Despite being on dry land, Peter still couldn't help but get up at the crack of dawn. "_God help me when we get back to England," _he couldn't help thinking as he walked to the edge of camp. Many of the men were taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep in, except for Killick and some of his cronies, who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to gather cacti and other leaves for a sort of juice.

The memory of the previous evening's events was enough to make him smile as well as feel a little mortified. He was not sure how many of his shipmates had noticed him and Victoria, but he was pretty sure that soon they would be the talk of the entire Surprise. "_At least I was within the bounds of propriety," _he reassured himself as he went to search for the lady in question.

Victoria was sitting on a rock overlooking the ocean. As usual she had her shawl tied over the neckline of her dress. The rising sun lent a healthy glow to her face, and made her dark eyes seem rather bright. She smiled when she saw him walk up in her direction. "We're going to have a few days of this," she said, motioning for him to sit next to her.

"Maybe less than a week. I'm sure the Captain would want to be underway as soon as possible," he said. He noticed that her braid had fallen in her face and he reached out to push it out of the way.

"The question is, where to?" she asked. "The Acheron is probably miles away now, in the Marquesas no doubt. I don't think even Captain Aubrey's seamanship and a good bracing wind could bring us there fast enough to catch her."

"Perhaps we'll go home then," Peter said, not hiding his disappointment at the possibility of this outcome. It would not go down all that well with the Admiralty that the Surprise had been close to catching the Acheron, but had been forced to give up the chase. "Too bad. I could have used the prize money though."

She gave him a quizzical look. "Why, what would you do with it?"

"Help Mother with the house and the land. Maybe set aside some for myself once I've taken care of things," Peter replied. His share of the prize money would be quite substantial given that he was a lieutenant, but he knew he would have a long way to go before he could buy a house of his own or set up an annuity. "What would you do?"

"Aside from deal with my parents' debts? Find some good place to live, if there's any money left," Victoria said. "Most likely I'll have to save what I have left and wait for another assignment to bring me elsewhere. Maybe it will even be with the Surprise again, if the Admiralty will allow it."

The thought of Victoria going elsewhere again was not something Peter even wanted to entertain. "I'm inviting you to come and stay at Sussex, for as long as you want to," he blurted out. "My mother would enjoy having you around, and the countryside is nice. It's a lot better than you having to rent rooms in Portsmouth or London."

"You simply don't want to have to look all over England to call on me before you leave on your next voyage," Victoria said lightly.

"I'd even stop by Gibraltar or wherever you are in the Mediterranean," he retorted.

"If we're not _both_ under orders," she said, chucking his chin teasingly. "I'll consider my options when we dock back in Portsmouth. Peace might have broken out with France by then, and where would that leave us both?"

Peter shook his head at the idea. If that happened, he would have to make do with his meagre half-pay, while Victoria would definitely have no more missions with the Admiralty. "You're right," he said, catching her hand. "So what will you do today?"

"Aside from seeing if Dr. Maturin needs my help? Maybe I'll go with Will to collect some animals or plants. He said last night he might set out today to do it. If not I have some reading and writing to finish," she replied. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Captain Aubrey ordered me to help see to stocking up new provisions. That won't have to be done immediately."

"Maybe you should come with me and Will to do some exploring. It would do you good."

"We'd get in Will's way completely."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "You, Mr. Calamy, are starting to talk rather scandalously."

He laughed at her suddenly affecting proper manners. "I only meant that it wouldn't be kind or proper to have Will constantly calling for us to keep up with his discoveries and all," he explained. He paused, trying to figure out a way to be able to steal some time with her without having to call for someone to chaperone them. As he looked around the landscape, a solution finally presented itself. "Maybe we can walk up to that ridge there tomorrow. The view looks good," he said after a while, pointing to a hill on one end of the cove.

"It's within sight of the camp," she said.

"The very idea," he replied. "We can watch and only be glanced at. What do you think?"

The young woman did not bother hiding her giggles. "You're a crafty man, Peter. I should hate to have to share your company with other ladies you'll charm if you ever go up to London. But I will walk with you tomorrow, if nothing keeps us here in the camp."

"What can? The Acheron arriving maybe," he pointed out before he offered to escort her back to camp.

When they arrived there, more of the men were awake. Will, who was having breakfast with his fellow midshipmen, gave them a cheery salute and a knowing smile. They parted ways near the Doctor's tent, Victoria going in to see to the patient while Peter went to seek his fellow lieutenants. He found Pullings and Mowett breakfasting near a spot earmarked by the crew for playing cricket.

"Ah we were wondering where you were," Pullings greeted Peter. "Have a good rest?"

"Better than I've had in a few days," Peter replied. Their breakfast consisted of some biscuits, fresh fruits, a stew prepared with the last of the meat and spices, and plain water. He quickly took some biscuits and dipped them in the stew for palatability's sake, all the while listening to Mowett going over a bit of verse with his friend.

"I hear you're an excellent cricket player, Mr. Calamy," Pullings said after a while. "There's a game later, if you want to participate."

"Not excellent, but I used to play frequently enough during my shore leaves," Peter replied. The prospect of a good cricket game added to his already good cheer. "Has the Captain given any word as to how long we'll be here?"

"He mentioned something like the span of a week. It's more than we need, but it will allow the Doctor and the rest of us to recover," Pullings noted. Whatever disappointment he must have had on the outcome of this mission was well masked by his easy manners. "I bet the Doctor will be up and about soon, chasing after every bird and beast that he can find."

"Perhaps," Peter said, noticing Will and Padeen suddenly go off into the bush in search of some animal. "Even if he is confined to bed for today, he will not lack any amusement."

Mowett cleared his throat. "How do matters stand between you and Miss Hastings?"

The young lieutenant nearly started at the question. "We have resolved our differences," he said after managing to get down a mouthful of water.

"That's good. I'd hate to see you lose her to some stuffed shirt up in London," Mowett replied, not hiding his mischievous smile on seeing Peter's mortified expression.

"William and I saw the two of you talking last night," Pullings added by way of explanation. "Nothing to fear, as long as you conduct yourself properly. We wouldn't want to have her father coming after you with a gun or his entire fleet."

"I intend to do things properly," Peter replied. He was not sure how he was to do it, but he knew that he wanted to help Victoria find a more secure situation than ferreting out spies and delivering messages from port to port. He bit his lip, resolving to think the matter over some other day. For now there was work, and a good game of cricket to play.

For the rest of the day, Peter saw little of his friends, apart from an hour when they stopped by to watch the cricket game. After that morning's leisure, he had to oversee the restocking of the ship's provisions, as well as a few minor but necessary repairs. It was quite late in the night when he finished, but when he went into his tent, he found a note carefully tucked among his belongings: "_Meet me at sunrise, by the campfire." _

The hours couldn't pass quickly enough now for Peter. Still, he managed to get a good night's sleep, waking up at his usual hours in order to make the rendezvous. When he met Victoria, he saw that she was carrying a basket with her. "I got your ration and mine in advance," she explained. She held up a strange flask. "Killick told me to take this with me; says he brewed it fresh."

"I am not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing," Peter said, relieving her of the basket. It did not take them long to trek up to the promontory they had decided on the day before. The place commanded a good view of the cove, and it was close enough to the camp such that they could hurry down in case they were needed. "_But far enough so that they'd think twice of disturbing us," _he thought.

He couldn't help but be amused at how Victoria had prepared for this outing. Not only had she managed to get _two _rations of biscuits, fruit, cheese, and fresh water, but she had even thought of borrowing a spyglass for the sake of taking in the view. "It's a rather bare coast; all the greenery is to the interior," he pointed out to her when he saw her using the scope some time in the afternoon. The day had passed with pleasant conversation about a myriad of things. The sun was approaching the horizon now, but neither of them felt particularly inclined to go down and return to camp.

"Yes, but you never know what's on the horizon," she replied, handing the spyglass to him. "I really am my father's daughter, always looking for some trouble."

"I'm afraid you'll be my ruin instead of the other way around," Peter said. He opened the flask and sniffed the rather sweet fluid inside. "Killick brewed it from the plants here?"

"Apparently."

Peter took a swig of it and frowned at the strong, rather sickly taste. "It's quite awful, Victoria," he said, covering the flask.

"Let me be the judge of that," Victoria said, taking the drink from him. She coughed and practically spat out the mouthful she'd taken. "It's positively vile!"

He did not bother hiding his smirk. "I warned you."

"Damn Killick and his ideas," she laughed, corking the flask and setting it aside. "We should have brought some wine."

"We could always ask for some from the Captain's stores," he pointed out.

"_You_ do it. I don't have the audacity to." She pushed her tousled hair away from her face. "We may as well find some when we get back to England. In a few years, we'll be toasting to you, _Captain_ Peter Miles Calamy."

Peter couldn't resist smiling at the idea, as far off as it sounded. "It might take more than just a few years to happen."

"It's inevitable. I can see it."

"What's next, I have to lose my arm like Nelson did?"

She burst out laughing. "Nothing that drastic, I hope!"

He kissed her forehead lightly. "If I become a post captain, and you're still travelling all over the world by that time, I'm going to get a ship out to find you."

"I won't give you a difficult time with that then," she said, leaning in closer to him.

Suddenly some footsteps sounded behind them. "Peter! Victoria!" Will's voice shouted breathlessly.

The couple sprang apart. "What is it?" Peter asked the midshipman. He noticed Padeen running up, carrying Dr. Maturin on his back.

Will paused to catch his breath. "We saw the Acheron!"


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Just bearing in mind here that Peter and Victoria are, after all, two teenagers on a ship at the eve of a battle. Of course some rules are going to be broken, or bent somewhat. _

**Chapter 14: The Phasmid**

With the news of the Acheron being sighted, it was not long till the entire crew of the Surprise was readying for action. "To think that Mr. Calamy and I were just joking about that sort of thing last night and today," Victoria complained while she was helping Dr. Maturin and Will examine various insects and plants in the sickbay. "It was only supposed to be rhetorical."

"But it was probable," Dr. Maturin sighed. "Too bad for the majority of my collection; I had to turn them loose, the poor creatures. Where did they reckon the Acheron was bound for?"

"King Charles Island," Victoria replied. "Maybe you'll get another chance to see that bird again, Dr. Maturin."

Captain Aubrey knocked on the sickbay door and entered. "So Stephen, did you get to see your bird?" he asked the Doctor.

"No, my greatest discovery was your phantom. I had to leave the majority of my collection behind. However Mr. Blakeney and I made one very interesting find," Dr. Maturin said, holding out what appeared to be a twig.

"Let me guess, a stick?" Captain Aubrey asked.

Dr. Maturin smiled at Will before passing a magnifying glass to the Captain. "Tell him about it, Mr. Blakeney."

"It's a rare phasmid Sir," Will said with a grin. "It's an insect that disguises itself as a stick in order to confuse its predators."

"I see," Captain Aubrey said, clearly deep in thought. "Miss Hastings, have you taken a look at it yet?" he asked.

The young woman shook her head. "It's absolutely clever of the creature," she noted as Captain Aubrey handed her the insect on a stick and the magnifying lens. It took Victoria a moment to spot the creature, which she would have missed entirely had it not been for its legs and antennae.

"Amazing isn't it?" Dr. Maturin said, taking the phasmid back and placing it on the table. "I'm sure there are other creatures of this sort, Jack-well, he's busy now!"

Victoria laughed to see that Captain Aubrey had wandered out of the sickbay. "You've got his mind on something, Doctor."

"I suppose I shall see him later if we are to practice. Can't have him gathering moss," Dr. Maturin said as he continued to examine the few specimens he'd collected.

Will glanced at Victoria. "I'm sorry that this had to inconvenience you and Peter."

"Well your coming was timely. You know he hates to be behind on the news," Victoria said. Still, she couldn't help but feel disappointed at having a rather intimate moment interrupted. _"The question is though, how can we take the Acheron?"_ she wondered silently as she got out a notebook to categorize and classify the collection until the bell for dinner rang. She could hear the hubbub of a group of men, led by Nagle, was set to repainting and refitting the Surprise's woodworking, as a sort of 'disguise'.

"What could that be about?" Victoria asked curiously as she left the sickbay to get her dinner. To her surprise, she saw Boyle walking up to her, carrying a whole bundle of clothes.

"Some whalers' slops, Miss Hastings. Could you stitch them up so they don't look so shabby?" the midshipman asked.

"Well yes. But what will we use them for?" she said, getting the cloths.

"To sneak up on the Acheron. Captain's orders," Boyle said.

"_How curious," _Victoria thought as she fetched her sewing basket and went to the gunroom to begin her work. Most of the work to be done consisted of darning and stitching up worn seams. As she worked, she could hear men working on shot and cartridges for the guns, while others removed the wheels of the cannons and cleared the gun deck. The atmosphere aboard was far from grim though; the men were still drinking, jokingly trading last bequests, and even occasionally breaking out into song.

As Victoria tied off a thread at the end of a seam, she caught sight of a despondent Will headed to his quarters. "Something the matter?" she called to him.

Will took a deep breath. "I just heard from Peter that I'm not to be on the boarding party. He's going to help free the Albatross' whalers from the hold."

Victoria looked down, unsure what to say to this. "_Will may be enthusiastic, but he's going to get killed fighting with just one arm," _she thought. She put down her sewing to look at him. "I'm sure there's another important task you'll be asked to do. His mission is really, quite dangerous."

"But I want to help out! We need every man in the boarding parties," Will said. He paused to collect himself. "And I want to help Peter too. You'd do the same for him, wouldn't you?"

"I would, if I knew how to fight properly," she said. She wasn't even going to ask Captain Aubrey or anyone if she was to be in the battle; at worst she'd be easy prey for the men on the Acheron, at best she'd be a liability to whoever she'd be fighting with.

Will sighed as he took off his hat. "I don't want to be useless."

"You won't be. Why don't you talk to Captain Aubrey and ask him if you can be on the boarding party. He'd listen to you," Victoria advised. She looked at the finished clothes scattered on the table. "I'd best give these to the men. So we're to be whalers? What's the Captain doing, making us prey?"

"We're a phasmid now," Will said before they parted ways, him to the quarterdeck and her to distribute the clothes to the men. After this, Victoria made her way to her quarters in hopes of catching a little bit of sleep. She felt as if she'd only been asleep for a minute when a knock sounded on the door of her room.

"Miss Hastings, it's time to get ready," Peter said from outside.

She threw the door open. "It's already here?"

"Not yet, but soon enough," he replied. He was not wearing whaler's clothes, but instead he was in his full uniform. He had with him some folded clothes, which he handed to her. "You forgot to save these for yourself."

She frowned on seeing that he had given her a loose blouse and a pair of trousers. "I'll look like a ship's boy. But whalers do bring women on their ships sometimes, so why can't I fight as I am?"

"You don't want to draw undue attention to yourself, do you?" Peter pointed out.

"I suppose I will have to cut my hair too?" she asked acridly. She knew that vanity was not something to be worried about in this situation, but she still couldn't help but feel embarrassed at having to appear so unseemly. "It's going to grow back, but still..."

"It doesn't make a difference to me," he said. He looked around as if to make sure they were not being overheard. "Victoria, if something happens to me, I have some bequests in my quarters for you, Will, and a few other friends at home. And please, that invitation to stay at my home still stands."

She silenced him with a finger on his lips. "I'll be fine. I know how to take care of myself. But still, thank you," she said. "But please, you have to be careful too."

"Of course I will!"

"Do it for me, Peter. I won't have talk of you dying." She took a deep breath. "You're the first person in years I want to be there when I come home. "

Peter nodded. "I'll do my best, Victoria," he whispered before kissing her gently.

The feeling of Peter's lips on hers was enough for her to give in. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him back, clutching at his coat for support. He pushed them both into her cabin, awkwardly closing the door behind them before anyone could see.

"Should we be doing this?" he asked as he pulled away to catch his breath. "I mean now, before a battle and all..."

"Well, we may never get another chance at it," she said breathlessly. "I love you, Peter. I just want you to know that."

"You've made it clear before," he said, giving her another kiss, lingering a little longer than before. "We're nearly out of time. You have to get dressed."

"Don't laugh when you see me later," she said. She opened the door a crack and looked around. "Now's your chance. You have to go."

"Till later," he whispered, touching her hand before slipping out of the small cabin.

The clothes that Victoria had been given were a little large for her, but she figured this was so much the better in order to cover up her figure. She tied back her hair before using her pocketknife to cut it so that it fell below her shoulders. The result was a little messy, but it was at least enough for her to pass as a young boy. "_My father wouldn't recognize me now," _she thought as she swept aside the cut off raven strands. After rolling up the trousers and adjusting them so she wouldn't trip, she went to where the crew was being mustered at the gun deck.

Captain Aubrey stood at one end of the deck, giving final instructions to the men. As he finished, he looked around at the crew assembled in the room. "England is under threat of invasion. And though we be on the far side of the world, this ship is our home," he said. His eyes were clear as he looked at his officers. "This ship is England."

Somehow this sent a chill down Victoria's spine. "_This place is all I've got now," _she realized. Talk of the future, of a house in Sussex, wouldn't matter for a long while. Today, the Surprise was the world she knew.

"So it's every hand to his rope or gun. Quick's the word and sharp's the action," Captain Aubrey continued. "After all, surprise is on our side. "

Cheers and huzzahs broke out in the crowd. Victoria did not stop herself from adding her voice to the hubbub, if only to make her feel that truly, they would win the day.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Battle time! Warning though for what happens here to Peter; it's quite gory. Though I do hope my depiction of surgery is accurate (I've tried to do my best with the anatomy and the first aid here!) _

**Chapter 15: The Trap Is Sprung**

If Peter could have picked at that moment where he would have preferred to be stationed, he would certainly have picked someplace above decks instead of the gundeck. "_You can hardly see the Acheron approaching from here," _he thought as he tried to peer out one of the larboard gunports. He was pretty sure that despite the tense situation, Captain Aubrey was enjoying this little ruse of his. Meanwhile the men in the gundeck could only wait with bated breath for the signal to fire. Some of them still whispered among themselves, while a few others clutched at whatever lucky charms they'd brought onboard.

In times like these, Peter tried not to think too much about going back to England, or the people who waited for him there. If ever, it only served to distract him from the actual task of survival. "_It's different though when someone you want to protect is going to get caught up in the thick of things," _he realized. Well, in his case there were two people. Though Will and Victoria had already been told to remain on the ship and help take command while the rest of the crew boarded the Acheron, there was no guarantee that they would stay out of trouble. "_It never happens. I've had to do rash things too as a midshipman," _he told himself.

A shot whizzed by the Surprise, landing right near the larboard side. Peter looked astern, to where Will was with his gun crew, and Victoria sat, ready to run down to the gunner's room for more powder. As deftly as he could, he left his gun crew to meet them halfway.

He nodded to Will first. "Good luck Will."

"Good luck Peter," the midshipman said as they shook hands.

"I'll see you later," he promised his friend. He stepped towards Victoria, who was looking nervously at the floor. He could see that she was armed too with a pistol and two knives, but that was no guarantee in such a dire situation. "We'll get out of this fine," he said, raising her chin.

"Yes. As long as you watch your back," she told him, squeezing his hands.

"While you don't do anything dangerous," he admonished her. He wanted to take her in his arms and give her a proper goodbye, but he settled for kissing her one last time before they all returned to their posts.

"Steady now, lads. Stay calm," Pullings said to the men in the gundeck.

A heavily accented voice from far off called to the Surprise. "English whaler Syren! This is Acheron! You have no possibility, no chance, but you have had warning. Stop now or we will destroy your ship. English whaler, this is your last warning-"

"Let fly!" Captain Aubrey shouted.

"Run out boys!" Pullings ordered. "For the mainmast, lads!"

The wheels of the larboard battery's guns had been taken off in order to add some extra elevation to the shots. However this meant that only one shot could be fired from this particular side of the Surprise. Peter waited for the Acheron's mainmast to come into sight of the gunport before striking the flint to fire the gun. The ball crashed right into the mast, sending splinters everywhere. He then got up to help Pullings with aiming and firing the guns towards the stern. When all but one gun was fired, a creaking sounded from the Acheron's mast. A terrifying crash sounded as the mast crashed to the French frigate's deck, eliciting a cheer from the men of the Surprise.

"Man the starboard battery!" Pullings roared as the ship began to turn. In a few moments all the gun crews had crossed to the other side of the deck. "Fire as she bears!"

The roar of the starboard guns firing was deafening. Yet even above this, Peter could hear the sounds of glass shattering and wood splintering as the Surprise fired into the Acheron's stern, certainly doing damage along its decks. Shots were being fired on deck as well, probably from the Marines in the maintops, trying to clear the Acheron's deck.

A few shots ripped through the Surprise, felling a few men and blasting aside one cannon. Yet the time for this sort of gunnery was at an end. "Fourth division, to the Captain!" Peter shouted before snatching up his own pistols as well as a sword.

Everything was a mess of fallen spars and canvas from the Acheron, thus making it nearly impossible for the Surprise to lay alongside its opponent. Mowett was shouting for his division to follow Mr. Pullings, while Mr. Allen was ordering for the men to clew the topsails. "Huzzah for Lucky Jack!" someone yelled as Captain Aubrey crossed to the forecastle of the Surprise.

Mr. Hogg was there, with his arms full of pistols and other small guns. He also had with him some small balls with fuses attached to them, and some flints. "For when we get into the hold," he said to Peter. "I've got a hammer too for smashing the locks."

Peter got some of the pistols and slung them over his shoulders in order to keep his hands free. "I'll draw their fire away from you while you call for your men," he said. He had a fair idea as to where a frigate would be housing its prisoners, but unfortunately getting to that part of the ship would mean first having to ward off a whole tide of enemies. "_God help us get into the hold," _he thought as he took hold of a rope to help him cross. The division following him consisted of men from several gun crews, as well as some hands from the maintop, and all of the whalers who had accompanied Mr. Hogg. Most of them had never seen battle in such close quarters before.

"Grappling hooks away! Run out the boarding planks!" Mr. Hollar, the bosun, barked to the men Meanwhile Pullings had found a rope to swing across to the Acheron's stern, while other men were clambering over the spars and fallen timbers.

"For England, for home, and for the prize!" Captain Aubrey shouted before taking a leap from the Surprise and onto the Acheron's deck.

Peter followed suit a moment after, landing as quietly as he could on the deck. He motioned for the men following him to be silent. Through the clouds of smoke and powder, he could see nothing but bodies collapsed on the deck. The air was rank with the stench of blood, but no cries or moans of wounded men could be heard. Somehow this made the lieutenant feel more apprehensive than reassured.

"Looks like the job is done, Sir" Mr. Allen said to Captain Aubrey.

A yell sounded from the middle of the ship. "Acheron!" A shot rang out, and Mr. Allen fell to the deck with a bullet in his forehead. Captain Aubrey immediately returned fire as the Acheron's crew charged forward with pikes and blades on the ready.

Peter quickly shot at the first man who came at him with a gun before he had to bring out his sword to fend off a burly sailor intent on decapitating him. "_No time to reload!" _he realized as he parried off the blades of several men. He managed to take a stab at the one closest to him, giving him room to move and dispatch the rest of his attackers. He heard Pullings shout for Will to man the nine-pounder from the Surprise's quarterdeck. Splinters flew everywhere and more of the Acheron's men fell towards the stern.

"Help!" he heard Boyle scream from nearby. Peter rushed over, pulled off the Frenchman who had pinned down the midshipman, and knocked him out with the hilt of his sword. Meanwhile Captain Aubrey was also rescuing Williamson, who had been forced into a corner. Everyone was fighting not just with swords and guns, but even with fists, pikes, clubs, and in Killick's case, even a mallet.

"Mr. Calamy, the grenades!" Captain Aubrey shouted. Peter grabbed one of the explosives he had with him, used the flint to light it, and then threw it down a hatchway. Captain Aubrey and Mr. Hogg also threw down some grenades, shattering more of the Acheron's gun deck.

An explosion came from the rear of the ship. "_What was that?" _Peter wondered as he jumped down the hatchway and began fighting his way through to the ship's hold. "Whalers, follow me!" he shouted over his shoulder as he clambered down another ladder. He quickly fired at someone standing guard in the hold, giving time for Mr. Hogg and the rest to get down into the hold.

"Albatrosses, do you hear me?" Mr. Hogg shouted. Someone yelled and whistled from behind a door that had been locked and chained. Peter stood by to fend off the Acheron's crew while Mr. Hogg smashed the door's lock and chain.

"Lively lads! Come on, move!" the whaler shouted to his shipmates as he and Peter handed out the weapons they'd brought. "Now do your worst!" The newly freed whalers ran as a throng to the upper decks, scaring the French crewmen who had been sent down to quell them.

Peter climbed back up to where the fighting was still raging in the gundeck. He slashed at someone who was still trying to fire a cannonball into the Surprise's hall, before disarming the rest of the nearby gun crew. Suddenly he heard the ringing of metal, but before he could turn to dispatch the crewman in front of him, he felt a searing pain in his side, enough to force him to the floor.

"They've struck their colors!" he heard Will shout from the far end of the gun deck. Captain Aubrey conferred briefly with Mr. Howard before setting off to the Acheron's great cabin, presumably in search of the French captain. Some of the injured crewmen on both sides were struggling to their feet while others were calling for their comrades.

"Already?" Peter called. He gritted his teeth to avoid crying out in pain. It was all he could do not to look at the knife that had somehow found its way between his ribs.

"Peter! Oh no...where's Dr. Maturin?" Victoria screamed. She was at his side in a moment, gently pushing him to the floor. "Don't you move-and don't touch that knife," she warned.

"It's _not_ supposed to be there," Peter hissed. His vision was growing dim around the edges, and he could feel blood trickling down his chest, soaking through his clothes.

"Yes, but if you remove it now, you might make things worse," Victoria said. She pushed his hair out of his face. "Oh I told you to watch your back!"

Peter would have said something to this if Dr. Maturin hadn't arrived. "That knife is not in his lungs, fortunately," the doctor said after making a quick examination. "Miss Hastings, put pressure on that wound." He saw Will run up with a look of horror on his face. "Mr. Blakeney, go get Higgins and tell him to get the supplies," he said to the midshipman.

"Peter, look at me. Don't fall asleep," Victoria said firmly. "It's going to hurt, but I've got you."

Peter nodded and looked at her face, well aware that she could easily be the last thing he'd ever see. He managed a shallow breath before pain ripped through him again. This time he couldn't hold back a yell of agony as Dr. Maturin swiftly removed the knife. He felt the darkness threatening to swallow him, if not for Victoria insistently entreating him to stay awake as Dr. Maturin continued to work on his injury. It was becoming more difficult to hold on to consciousness as he felt hands lifting him and carrying him to a room.

"Here, you'd best take a little of this," Dr. Maturin said, holding a small vial to his lips.

Even in his state, Peter could still recognize the cloying odor of laudanum. "What for?"

"You'd best do it. You won't like what else we have to do to you," Victoria said.

Reluctantly Peter drained the contents of the vial and shut his eyes. He felt lassitude slowly creep up on him, something he could only hope he'd wake up from.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Aftermath**

Though the battle had been rather early in the morning, it was already almost dark by the time Victoria and Dr. Maturin were finished tending to the wounded from both the Surprise and the Acheron. "Too bad that there was no doctor on the Acheron," Dr. Maturin said as they cleaned up the Surprise's sickbay. "He died of fever months ago."

"How did the men manage without that?" Victoria asked. Still, a quick glance at the rotten teeth, limps, and scurvy that had afflicted some of the Frenchmen was enough to give her a sort of answer to her question. She shook her head on seeing the now depleted cabinets of the sickbay. Even with the Acheron's supplies, there had been little more than enough to see to the wounded men. "_And those were only those we could save," _she thought.

Though the Acheron had borne the brunt of the casualties, there were still a good number of dead aboard the Surprise. Some had been clearly beyond help; Mr. Allen had been killed instantly with that first salvo during the boarding, while at least one man had fallen from the maintop and broken his neck. Others had not died immediately after being wounded, but had perished during or shortly after the battle. Doudle and Nagle were among them, having been shot also during the initial boarding action.

"_Peter could have gone the same way too, but he was lucky that Dr. Maturin was nearby," _Victoria realized. There was no telling if he would live, even with Dr. Maturin's expert care. "_If the Doctor had been elsewhere, he could have saved someone else. Was Peter's life worth-" _she wondered before she had to pinch herself to avert the thought.

She heard Peter stir and groan softly in a nearby hammock. "Don't strain yourself, Peter," she said, quickly rushing to him. "Dr. Maturin stitched up your side, so you're going to be just fine. The knife didn't get in that deep."

He winced as he tried to take a deep breath. "Still hurts a lot."

"What do you expect? But laudanum is running low, so I can't do much for you there," she said, squeezing his hand.

"Miss Hastings, that's not something a surgeon's mate should tell a patient!" Dr. Maturin said with a laugh. He nodded to Captain Aubrey, who was just entering the sickbay. "Butcher's bill: fifty dead, twenty of them from us. We also have sixty wounded from the Surprise, and a hundred and three from the Acheron," he reported.

Captain Aubrey nodded grimly at this news "Good work with taking care of them. Thank you," he said to Dr. Maturin and Victoria. He stopped by Peter's hammock. "How are you faring, Mr. Calamy?"

"Well enough, Sir," Peter replied, obviously trying to keep a straight face.

"You're in good hands," Captain Aubrey said, glancing to where Victoria and Peter were still holding hands. "Have you checked the Acheron for any papers yet, Stephen?"

"I haven't had the time," Dr. Maturin replied. "Unfortunately some of the men here need some constant tending. If Miss Hastings has some time, she can take charge of searching for the papers. She'll need some assistance with the lantern though."

Victoria nodded, understanding that Dr. Maturin intended to recover the ship's logs and documents that the Acheron's resident spy, Cunningham, might have squirreled away. "_Too bad the bugger was killed in battle," _she thought. "I shan't take long and I'll be back before you know it," she said to Peter before getting to her feet. "Captain Aubrey, if it's not too much trouble-"

"I'll assist you personally," Captain Aubrey assured her. "Shall we now, Miss Hastings?"

In a few moments, they had crossed to the Acheron. The ship was in shambles, but already some men were attempting basic repairs so as to keep the frigate from sinking. Howls and cries pierced the air as a good many sailors mourned their dead comrades.

"No brandishing your blade, Miss Hastings," Captain Aubrey warned Victoria as one particularly hostile Frenchman made a lewd gesture at them.

"Well if only it was easy to always remain civil," Victoria said. Still he had a point; the men of the Acheron were already considered prisoners, and it would not be right to continue to threaten them given the state of affairs.

After checking the wrecked great cabin and the captain's quarters, they searched the rooms of the various officers. In one rather fetid cubicle, Victoria caught sight of a box wrapped with leather. "It must be this," she said, ripping off the cover. She frowned on seeing a heavy lock attached to the box. "Have you got something heavy, Captain?"

Captain Aubrey searched outside and found a heavy candlestick. "Will this do?"

"It might," Victoria said. She managed to smash the lock, which fell to the floor with a clatter. The box was crammed with ship's logs, some notebooks, as well as some documents written out in French. "_Orders maybe even from the top," _she thought as she and Captain Aubrey brought the box back to the Surprise's sickbay.

However Dr. Maturin had a less grandiose view of their find. "It's merely Cunningham's orders to gather intelligence for use of other French agents," he said as he and Victoria piled up the documents on the table. His eyes went wide as he perused another paper which fell out in the middle of the pile. "Well, a list of people to look out for, and we are on it!"

"Some documents here too, taken from another ship," Victoria said, holding up a letter. "This was supposed to go to a Mr. Perez in Valparaiso."

"I know the man. These belong to him as well," Dr. Maturin said, setting some papers aside. "We might be able to persuade Captain Aubrey to take on supplies from that port, so we can see to the delivery of these letters to him."

Victoria began sorting out the documents, some to deliver to Valparaiso, others to remain sealed till they could be brought to the Admiralty in England. "_After that, what then?" _she wondered. There was no telling if she would be assigned again to another mission. She could always track down her father in Malta, or wherever he would be stationed in the Mediterranean. Then there was Peter's idea for her to stay at his family's home in Sussex. "_I might be able to live with that," _she thought. She glanced at Peter, who had fallen asleep again. Perhaps they would be able to discuss this plan, hopefully some time soon.

The next morning had the Surprise's crew gathering for a short burial service for those who had been killed in the battle, or who had passed on in the night from their wounds. Most of the men were able to show up, but a handful were still confined to sickbay under Dr. Maturin's orders. A row of sewn up hammocks lay on deck as Captain Aubrey led the prayers. However, unlike during Hollom's funeral, many of the crew were downcast especially when the names of the dead were read aloud.

"_Names we'll never hear again," _Victoria realized. In some way she would feel the absence, would look time and again for the antics of Nagle and Doudle, or listen for Mr. Allen's voice singing old naval songs. They and the others would be missed by the crew. She had to shut her eyes as the bodies were heaved off the side, to be committed to the deep.

"At least Peter is still with us," Will said to her after the service was over and they were headed to the sickbay to visit their friend.

"Dr. Maturin says that he has the resilience of youth going for him. He'll recover," Victoria said optimistically. However when they arrived in the sickbay, they found Peter sleeping fitfully. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his skin was more flushed than usual.

"_Please, please not a fever!" _Victoria thought frantically as she felt the lieutenant's brow. She shook her head on finding his skin hotter than she would have liked. "Peter, wake up!" she whispered, trying to shake him awake.

His eyes were a little unfocused as he looked at her. "Victoria?"

"We've got to get some water in you," she said, helping him sit up to drink.

Will grabbed a clean cloth and doused it in some water. "Here, this might help," he said, handing the cloth to Victoria.

Peter shivered as Victoria put the wet cloth on his head. "It's so cold..." he whispered, half-leaning already on her.

"You're positively burning up," Victoria said, running her hands through his hair. It was all she could do to keep from giving in to fear; so many men who survived their wounds subsequently succumbed to the fever and inflammation that usually followed. "_He may need more than his youth to just fight this," _she thought.

Dr. Maturin returned to the sickbay, and only needed one glance at his patient to know what had happened. "Keep him comfortable and rested. There's not much we can do for him for now."

Peter grabbed Victoria's hand. "Don't go," he whispered weakly.

"I won't," Victoria said, kissing his cheek. "You'll be fine, Peter. I swear it," she added, willing with every fiber of her being for this to actually happen.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Temporary Leavetakings**

For the next day or so, Peter found himself wandering from dream to dream. Memories of his home at Sussex, of his days as a midshipman and the places he'd seen were now suddenly mingled with gunfire, smoke, blood, and the pain from his wound. Now and then he caught sight of Victoria, Will, Dr. Maturin, and even on some occasions Captain Aubrey, Pullings, and Mowett, during whatever brief moments of wakefulness he had.

It was morning when he opened his eyes, and found that his side hurt much less. "_What day is it anyway?" _he wondered as he sat up. He realized that he felt less hot and uncomfortable all over, and that his throat felt much less dry. He glanced to the side and saw that Victoria was dozing in a chair next to his hammock. Her short hair was all over her face, and a book was on the verge of sliding off her lap.

He reached over to shake her shoulder. "Miss Hastings? Victoria?"

She yawned and stretched before turning to look at him. "How are you feeling, Peter?" she asked, not hiding the smile on her face.

"Better. A little hungry," he replied. He looked down, realizing that he was only wearing his trousers. "_This is embarrassing," _he thought as he looked for a blanket to help him preserve some respectability in his situation.

Victoria rolled her eyes and laughed. "I've been dealing with wounded men these past few days. One more wouldn't make a difference."

"How long was I sick?"

"One, nearly two days. You had me worried sick."

"So what else have I missed?"

"Mostly refitting. I think within two days we should be underway-with the Acheron in tow. Captain Aubrey intends to send the Acheron to Valparaiso for additional refitting, but she will still go on to Portsmouth after,"

"That's good to hear," Peter said, trying not to sound too disappointed. He knew that in his current condition, Captain Aubrey was not likely to ask him to be part of the small prize crew that would take charge of the captured French ship. At least this would allow him to continue recuperating aboard the Surprise. "You haven't been sleeping," he said, noticing the dark circles under Victoria's eyes.

"Well I've been helping in sickbay, trying to make sure men would get back on their feet. And of course dealing with a certain lieutenant and his fever," Victoria replied coyly. "Now I've got to change that bandage of yours. Dr. Maturin said last night that the inflammation there was subsiding, so you should be back on your feet soon."

"_More like I'm lucky to be alive," _Peter thought, trying not to look down as Victoria got to work. "What were you and Will doing in the Acheron? I thought you weren't supposed to be on the boarding party," he asked.

"That? Well we had to. The Acheron's gun crews were aiming at our hull, and we had to stop them right away," Victoria explained. "The rest of you weren't going to get below decks in time, so Will blasted a hole towards the stern and then we all climbed in."

"_That, after I told her not to do anything dangerous," _he thought. Still, he couldn't deny that had it not been for Will's quick action, the Surprise might have been sunk. He hissed as Victoria pulled off the last layer of cloth at his side. "Careful there."

"It has to come off some time," she retorted. "There, it's looking much better than yesterday. You'll have one nice battle scar when it heals up."

"Yes, a reminder to check what's _beside_ me next time I go into battle," he said dryly, trying to keep still as Victoria put a fresh bandage on the gash. "My mother is going to have a fit when she hears what happened to me."

"She doesn't have to know," Victoria pointed out, securing the bandage with a few strips of cloth. "But I take you're going to tell her about you and me?"

"Definitely. I think she might have been waiting for it to happen for some time now," he confided. "Are you going to tell your father?"

She nodded. "He always said you were a good, responsible boy, even back when we all first met in Gibraltar."

Peter smirked at this, wondering what the feared Commodore Hastings would have to say if he knew of what had happened in Victoria's cabin the night before the battle. "He's not going to say that if I tell him about my intentions when it comes to you," he said, leaning in to steal a kiss.

"I'm his only child. If I say that I want to be with you, he's not going to stop me," Victoria giggled before returning his kiss.

At that moment the sickbay door opened. "Good morning Miss Hastings, Mr. Calamy," Dr. Maturin said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Good morning Doctor," Peter said, moving away as slowly as he could in order to retain some semblance of dignity. He felt heat rising to his face when he realized that Captain Aubrey was also now standing at the sickbay door. "And you too, Captain," he added, managing a salute.

"Good to see you're feeling much better, Mr. Calamy," Captain Aubrey said, not hiding his knowing smile. "You had Mr. Pullings, Mr. Mowett, and Mr. Blakeney worried."

"The inflammation is nearly gone, but he mustn't strain himself for the next few days, lest the wound open up," Dr. Maturin advised after making a quick examination. "Miss Hastings, have you already readied the papers to be brought to Valparaiso?"

Victoria nodded. "The Acheron will have to be taken into Valparaiso for some additional refitting. While it's there, I have to bring something important to a friend there."

"In the meantime the Surprise will head back to the Galapagos. Stephen still wants to finish his collection," Captain Aubrey said. "We'll rendezvous with the Acheron in Portsmouth."

It dawned on Peter what this would entail. "_So much for going back together,"_ thought, risking a glance at Victoria. After the events of the previous days, he was not eager to let her too far out of sight, or out of mind. "When will this happen, Sir?" he asked Captain Aubrey.

"Mr. Pullings will take charge of the Acheron tomorrow. Mr. Mowett will be my acting first lieutenant here, you will be acting second lieutenant," Captain Aubrey said. "Hopefully this will mean more permanent promotions for all of you."

"I understand. Thank you Sir," Peter said. He knew that no matter the outcome, Captain Aubrey would have put in a good word for his officers at the Admiralty. It was just the sort of trait that made him well beloved among his men.

Dr. Maturin glanced from Victoria to Peter. "I suspect that Miss Hastings and Mr. Calamy have to discuss this...development. Come now, Jack," he said to the Captain.

Captain Aubrey gave a stern look at Peter and Victoria. "I will be expecting the two of you to still comport yourselves properly till tomorrow."

"Understood," Peter said, saluting while Victoria nodded. He waited for the two older men to leave the sickbay before looking at Victoria. "Do you really have to leave?"

"It has to be me. Dr. Maturin has much to do here on the Surprise, and you know the Captain can't deprive him of the chance to see the Galapagos properly," Victoria said. She held his hand as she kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine, you know that. If the Acheron gets to Portsmouth first, I'll be waiting for you there, as I'm sure you'd wait for me too."

"If not for this wound, I'd ask to be on that prize crew myself."

"You wouldn't, Peter. You're needed on the Surprise too."

He swallowed hard, knowing that Victoria had read the situation accurately. "It will be months till we can see each other again," he said.

"I know, but what can we do? We're subject to the requirements of the service," she pointed out. "Don't brood about it, Peter. In the meantime, let's get some breakfast and maybe talk about something else."

"That would be the best idea," he agreed, knowing that nothing he could say or do would dissuade anyone from this course of action.

For the rest of the day and up to the next morning, they did not speak of their impending parting, either to each other or to their friends among the crew. In truth, no one really knew who would be asked to be part of the prize crew, but the only thing that was certain was that Pullings would be in charge of it. It was only before noon when Captain Aubrey gave Pullings a set of orders, naming him captain of the Acheron for the remaining duration of the voyage. Among the crew that Pullings picked out was Hogg, for his sailing master, as well as the midshipman Williamson.

"We never got around to finishing our bet with target practice, "Boyle said, lamenting the latter choice. "If only you could shoot too, Blakeney," he said, elbowing Will.

"With a pistol," Will said with a smile, not forgetting what had happened to him on the Acheron.

Peter, who'd overheard this conversation, couldn't help but smile on recalling the small-arms practice so many weeks ago. "_At least that's something good that came out of it," _he thought. He had made it a point to be up and about on this day, in order to see off his shipmates and to get back to work as quickly as possible. It was just as well that Dr. Maturin was also of a similar mind, having no wish to have a malingering individual on his hands.

Victoria came up to him, having just returned from stowing her things on the boat bound for the Acheron. She was wearing a clean dress for the occasion, and her hair was tied back by a ribbon. "I'll see you in Portsmouth," she said, shaking his hand. "If you get there first, send me word."

"I believe it will be the other way around," he said, trying to sound cheerful. He pulled a stray strand of hair out of her face. "You take care of yourself, Victoria."

She nodded. "I know you're in good hands too." She paused as if wondering how to say something before reaching up to kiss him. "I'll be counting the days, Peter" she whispered as she pulled away.

"Likewise," he said, clasping her hand. After this there was only enough time for a last round of congratulations and goodbyes before the prize crew went off to the Acheron.

As the Surprise turned back in the direction of the Galapagos, Peter decided to occupy his time off watch by helping Will sketch some birds. "We'll have more of them once we get to the Galapagos," the midshipman said happily. He raised an eyebrow at the lieutenant. "If you don't mind me saying, Peter, you seem a bit sad."

"Well it will be long before I can see Victoria again. I can attempt to write to her, but it's hardly the same," Peter said.

"Are you going to ask her father for her hand?" Will asked.

"I should," Peter mused. He knew his chances weren't that good; he was young, only a lieutenant, and with comparatively few connections for his professional advancement. In fact he figured that his wanting to be with Victoria, the daughter of a rather successful commodore, would be construed by some as ambitious. "_Hang it all, I'll worry about that when we get back to England." _

Will nodded understandingly. "I think it will work out well."

"I hope so," Peter said. "Say, there's a frigate bird there," he added, pointing to a bird perched on the rigging. "We'd best go there to sketch it."

Will laughed. "That's a bird that the Doctor says isn't good eating."

"Pass the word for Mr. Mowett!" someone called.

Peter turned to where Mowett was stationed on the forecastle. "Mr. Mowett to the Great Cabin!" he said.

Mowett gave everyone a puzzled look. "I wonder what that could be about," he said before going below decks.

"Probably some matter about provisions," Peter said as he and Will found a spot to sketch from. No sooner had they gotten themselves settled did Mowett emerge from the Great Cabin.

"We shall beat to quarters," the older lieutenant said. "We're intercepting and escorting the Acheron into Valparaiso."

Something about this did not ring right in Peter's ears. "Why, what's happened?" he asked Mowett discreetly as Will excused himself to go to his station in the gun deck.

"Apparently, the 'doctor' that Captain Aubrey met on the Acheron was not actually the doctor," Mowett said. "Pullings and the rest might be in for a nasty shock."

"_What an understatement," _Peter realized as he went to his new station on the quarterdeck. Usually when the crew beat to quarters, the first lieutenant and if one was present, the third, took charge of the gundeck. The second lieutenant helped the sailing master with managing affairs above decks.

He felt a knot of fear as he caught sight of the Acheron on the horizon. It would be many hours till they could catch up with the ship to warn Pullings and his crew of the danger. "_Maybe we'll be in time to stop a takeover," _he told himself, watching the wind in the sails.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Be warned, a number of not-so-nice things will happen to Victoria in this chapter. Mostly getting physically roughed up...or is it? _

**Chapter 18: A Most Unwelcome Welcome**

"What good luck! This is even larger than the quarters we had on the Surprise!" Willamson cheered as he ran down to what had been the officers' quarters of the Acheron. "And no other middies to share it with," he added, pushing a door open.

"Keep your head about you, Mr. Williamson," Victoria said more sedately. "We're in a prize crew, not in a pleasure cruise."

"Still, it's awfully good for me. My father will be pleased that his only son saw action and is now taking a prize back to England," the brash midshipman said.

It was all that Victoria could do to keep from rolling her eyes at Willamson's antics. "_The prisoners wouldn't want to hear this," _she thought as she carefully set aside her own belongings in another cubicle. She had to admit that the midshipman was right about the roomier quarters aboard the French ship; it would take more than six paces to cross her own tiny room. "_Still not home without hearing everyone," _she thought, carefully checking that the papers she'd packed were still with her.

Still she had to admit that even in its present bedraggled state, the Acheron was a beautiful ship. Her lines were sleek and smooth, and the hull was built for speed. The Great Cabin had been fitted up with ornate carvings, clearly to the taste of its late Captain. "_Maybe the Admiralty will even add her to the fleet," _Victoria thought as she finished stowing her belongings and went to the Great Cabin, where she was told to report to as soon as possible.

So far things were looking up for the crew assigned to take charge of the Acheron. A number of experienced hands from the Surprise as well as all the whalers formed the group, with a small detachment of Marines joining them to help quell any trouble from the prisoners aboard the ship. "_Should be enough till we can parole these prisoners at Valparaiso," _she thought. From then on, it would be only the prize crew who would take the Acheron all the way back to England. It would be hard for them, but it was definitely less lethal than a battle.

She found Pullings trying to make the best of the mostly bare space he could use for what belongings he'd brought aboard. "Too bad this place got the brunt of the attack," he joked. "It's far too open and vulnerable."

"There must be some way these windows can be refitted so they wouldn't give in so easily," Victoria remarked. "You sent for me Sir?'

"There are plenty of wounded still aboard, according to the doctor present here. He may need some assistance," Pullings informed her.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "Sir, with all due respect, I was informed by Dr. Maturin that there was no doctor present on the Acheron."

"Captain Aubrey said he received the captain's sword from the doctor."

"No, their doctor died of fever months ago."

Pullings' jaw was set. "Can you be certain about this, Miss Hastings?"

"Yes Sir. No doctor presented himself to assist us, and we saw no one else treating the men," Victoria replied. Though she'd spent a lot of her time tending to a very feverish and delirious Peter, she had been able to at least make that vital observation.

"Then we have to be on our guard," Pullings said, dropping his voice. "If that 'doctor' shows himself to you, please tell him to report to me right away."

"Is that a wise idea? He might end up facing you down one on one," Victoria asked. "Should I warn Mr. Hogg and Mr. Williamson?"

"Yes, but be discreet. I'll explain the situation and the precautions we will take to the head of our Marine detachment here," Pullings said. "Let's hope to manage till we get to Valparaiso, where we can solve this mystery more properly."

Suddenly panicked footsteps came towards the Great Cabin. "Mr. Pullings! There's trouble with the prisoners!" Williamson said. The poor midshipman was red in the face, obviously having gotten out of some major scuffle.

"Send down the Marines," Pullings said, quitting the Great Cabin to see to the matter himself. "Miss Hastings, find Mr. Hogg and secure the quarterdeck. Any man who touches the helm, you have liberty to detain or shoot on the spot."

"Aye!" Victoria said. She did not bother rushing back to her room to grab the pistols or the knives she had brought with her. "_What I wouldn't give for a pike," _she thought as she ran to the hatchway. Before she could get one foot on the ladder, someone grabbed her from behind and wrested her into a corner.

"Think twice before screaming, Miss Hastings," a short man hissed in her ear.

Victoria winced on feeling something sharp against her neck. Yet the accent in her ear sounded vaguely familiar. She decided to hazard a guess. "Mr. Cunningham, I was told you were dead."

"The captain of this ship isn't the only one who knows how to hide," the agent said, twisting Victoria's arms behind her back. "Surprised to find you aboard this ship, and not Dr. Maturin."

"He has better things to do than to trifle with men like you," Victoria muttered. She tried getting some leverage in order to get herself free, till she felt the cold steel against her throat again. She could hear sounds of a struggle happening below, punctuated by the occasional yell of pain.

"Ship behind us! The Surprise!" Mr. Hogg bellowed from above decks before he yelled out, as if suddenly being thrown to the floor.

Cunningham's eyes widened. "Who told them?" he snarled at Victoria.

"They must have figured it out," Victoria said, not hiding her smile at this realization. Dr. Maturin would certainly have told Captain Aubrey about the absence of a doctor on the Acheron. She saw someone dragging down an unconscious Mr. Hogg from the quarterdeck to the hold. "Mr. Hogg, wake up!" she tried to yell before Cunningham tightened his grip on her.

A man emerged from the hold. "That's the last of them in the cells. Took some time knocking out the lieutenant," this newcomer said with a distinct French accent.

"What do we do about this one, Captaine de Vigny?" Cunningham asked.

The French captain sneered at Victoria. "Who's this? Lieutenant Pullings' mistress?"

"That's _Captain_ Pullings, Monsieur," Victoria retorted.

"She's an agent of the English Admiralty," Cunningham replied.

Captain de Vigny nodded, clearly understanding what was going on. "Deal with her as you wish, Monsieur Cunningham."

As soon as Captain de Vigny was out of sight, Cunningham pulled Victoria close again. "You'll thank me for this, Miss Hastings," he said before kicking her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. While she tried to catch her breath, she felt herself being dragged to one of the officers' quarters. Before she could get up and protest, Cunningham shut the door and locked her in.

"_What's he playing?" _Victoria wondered. She felt a chill on realizing that she was locked up not just to keep her from aiding Pullings and his men, but also perhaps so that Cunningham would have no trouble doing whatever he wished to her later. "_If I can hold out for at least eight hours, I should be safe," _she told herself. That was the shortest span of time the Surprise would need to properly catch up with the Acheron and enforce a takeover.

The cabin she'd been shoved into was quite bare, without even a hammock or anything to mark that someone had recently dwelt there. Nevertheless Victoria searched the place for any hole or chink that would perhaps be useful in event she needed to communicate with someone. She gritted her teeth on finding that her cell was quite solid all around. "_I should have gone back for my knives," _she berated herself as she sat down.

She did not notice when sleep finally overtook her, but she was nearly startled when she heard the clatter of the lock falling to the floor. The cabin door finally opened rather awkwardly. "Hello there Mademoiselle," a drunken voice hissed.

"_Oh good Lord," _Victoria realized. Perhaps it wasn't Cunningham who she had to fear after all. She backed into the furthest corner she could manage. "Stay away from me," she managed to say in French, barely remembering how to pronounce it properly.

"Didn't know they had a pretty one like you onboard," the stranger continued in French. He was easily as large as Awkward Davies, and perhaps could move just as fast. "You could come out with me for just a bit, Mademoiselle."

"No," Victoria said. She swallowed hard on remembering Peter's words about her drawing undue attention. "_Well it's not the first time it's happened," _she thought, balling her hands into fists. As the man lunged at her, she ducked and rolled out of the way. She managed to land a punch on his nose before pushing past him and slamming the door of the cabin. This time she made sure to go to her own quarters to grab her pistols and her knives.

She could hear the sound of drunken revelry up on deck. "_So much for turning the helm," _she thought. She figured that if she could turn the Acheron to larboard, it would at least hinder her progress and give Captain Aubrey a better shot at boarding the French ship. But at the same time there was the matter of the rest of the men trapped in the hold. "_Well I don't want to do this alone!" _she decided as she slipped down to the hold. One of the crewmen nearest the cell gave a start, but Victoria shot him point blank.

Williamson was the first one to come to the door. "Miss Hastings, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to get you out. Where's Mr. Pullings?" Victoria asked.

"Right here," Pullings replied. "Are you alright?"

"Could be better. I just need a heavy object to break this lock," she said. She examined the chain on the door and frowned. The setup was rather clumsy, with a lock barely holding together some rather short links of chain. Given the right amount of force, the lock would probably give and the door could be pushed open.

"None here. Could you pick it?" Pullings asked.

Victoria examined one of her knives, which she decided were rather too flimsy to the task. "I need something a little sturdier. The blade might snap in the lock."

"Footsteps from above," Williamson warned. Victoria concealed herself in a corner, watching as some crewmen went to check on their English prisoners. From where she crouched, she saw that there was a slight gap in the door where a hand might reach to grab the lock. "_Well now!" _she thought, waiting with bated breath for the men to leave.

As soon as it was safe, she ran forward. "If you push the door forward, the chain will give a little. Someone can reach through and pull up on the lock while I try to wrest it loose. It might be the only chance we've got," she whispered.

"We have nothing to lose. Williamson, you can get your hand through the gap," Mr. Hogg said. "The rest of us, push on the door to give him more room."

Victoria yanked at the bottom of the lock, intent to make the pins there come loose of the top portion, which Williamson was holding. She felt the lock start to give even as she heard steps on the hatchway. "Pull harder!" she urged the midshipman. Just as the metal came loose, someone grabbed at her from behind and lift her up, slamming her against a post.

Through the blinding pain, she recognized Captain de Vigny's face. "Is this how you repay us, Mademoiselle? After Monsieur Cunningham trying to keep you safe, you do this?" he spat, putting his hand around her neck.

"I have to," Victoria managed to say. She had to keep a straight face when she saw the chains falling away from the door. "_Please, just get up to the deck," _she begged silently. Suddenly, she heard the click of a pistol from behind the French captain.

"Let her go, de Vigny," Pullings threatened. Victoria realized that he was holding one of her guns; somehow she must have dropped them when she had been grabbed.

"On my ship, and you would dare to shoot, Lieutenant Pullings?" Captain de Vigny taunted.

Victoria tried to gasp for some air; it was important that Mr. Hogg or someone get above decks and to the helm in order to stop the Acheron in its course. The only way that would happen was if they kept the French captain talking. Before she could make another effort, Pullings had made another decision; he immediately hit Captain de Vigny on the side of the head, forcing the man to let go of Victoria as he crumpled to the floor.

"That took long enough," Pullings said. "How are you, Miss Hastings?" he asked, going to help the young woman up.

Victoria coughed before managing a few deep breaths. "I'll live," she said. Still she knew that Captain de Vigny's assault had left bruises, which she could not hide from her friends back on the Surprise. "Should we lock him up?"

"Perhaps. We have to block the door though; I think you and Williamson damaged that lock beyond repair," Pullings replied. He and Victoria managed to drag Captain de Vigny into the cell, and rolled several barrels in front of the door for good measure.

A thud sounded from above. "Sounds like a scuffle," Victoria said. She handed one of her pistols to Pullings. "You'll need this, Sir," she said.

"To the quarterdeck, quickly," Pullings said. When they climbed up a hatchway to the Acheron's quarterdeck, they found the Surprise's prize crew was fighting off the rest of the French crew. Mr. Hogg and Williamson had wrested control of the helm, while the Marines were fighting their way to the maintops. The whalers who'd accompanied the prize crew were helping the Surprise's hands fend off the Acheron's hands from the quarterdeck and the gangway.

"_Just a matter of giving the rest of us some time," _Victoria thought, getting her knives out to help in the attack. Before she could rush forward, something slammed into her, making her tumble back down the hatchway into the gun deck.

As she tried to struggle to her feet, she saw the huge crewman who had tried to trap her earlier that night, now standing over her. "Looks like you can't escape after all Mademoiselle," he leered, grabbing both of her hands before she could fight back.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Retribution and Reunion**

Back on the Surprise, the tension grew with each passing hour. Not only was the crew intent on catching up with the Acheron, but even Captain Aubrey was in such a mood that he had to forego his nightly violin practice. "I think this is the first time that he has ever had to secure a prize in this manner," Peter said to Mowett during the early evening watch.

"He's never been cheated before by his opponents like this. Normally they are ah, more honourable in their surrender," Mowett pointed out. "We can probably manage to retake the Acheron; we have more men, supplies, and a better fitted up ship as of today. The question though is in what condition we might find Tom, Miss Hastings, and the rest of them."

"Miss Hastings knew there was no doctor on the Acheron. I heard her say as much," Peter replied. Of course, he wondered if he could trust his memory on this; most of his recollections of the sickbay were quite blurred thanks to his fever. Now that he was quite well or at least on the mend, he was certain of his own reckoning of how far the Acheron was. In a few minutes they would be within range of the French ship, close enough to fire a warning shot.

"Then they might have had some warning then," Mowett mused. He saluted quickly as Captain Aubrey walked onto the quarterdeck. "Shall we hail them, Sir?"

"In a moment," Captain Aubrey said, getting his spyglass. He peered through it for a moment and shook his head. "Seems as if we might have to board her again."

Peter got his own spyglass and trained it on the Acheron. He could not see anyone he knew on the deck, a sign which did not bode well. Suddenly he noticed a flurry of activity near the quarterdeck. He saw the red of the Marines' uniforms as the men emerged from the hatchway. A man who he recognized as Mr. Hogg ran to the helm, managing to wrest it away from the French crewman on the watch. "They're trying to take it back," he said to Captain Aubrey.

"Good work for Tom, but he might need our help. Give them a warning shot from the nine-pounder, Mr. Calamy," Captain Aubrey said. "That should give their 'doctor' something to think about."

"Aim to leeward...fire!" Peter directed the gun crew on the quarterdeck. The sound of the shot elicited a roar from the deck of the Acheron, but it was hard to tell if it was one of fear or welcome.

"Marines, fire from the maintop!" he heard Mr. Howard order as the Surprise drew closer. The Surprise's men who were on the Acheron's deck quickly ducked to evade the volley of gunfire, even as some of the French crewmen fell to the ground.

"Get the third and fourth divisions into the launch and the cutters. They will have to board from the stern windows; those are quite easily broken and I think Mr. Pullings left them open. First and second divisions to board the Acheron from the forecastle," Captain Aubrey directed. He nodded to the midshipmen, who had run up to the deck. "Mr. Boyle, Mr. Blakeney, take charge of the quarterdeck."

"They're signalling to us!" Mowett hollered. When everyone looked, Hogg was waving to the Surprise while some of the French crewmen had raised the white flag.

"Good thing we won't have to fire on them," Captain Aubrey said with obvious relief. "Mr. Mowett, change of plans. You secure the prisoners from the forecastle. The Marines will come with you. Mr. Calamy and I will try to see what's become of Mr. Pullings and the rest of them."

Peter glanced at Will, who looked apprehensive. "They should be fine. We were only away from them for a few hours," he said to reassure his friend. Still he knew deep down that there was no way that his friends would have gotten out of this unhurt. He didn't even want to think about what might have befallen Victoria. "_Best be prepared to avenge the worst," _he thought as he watched the bosun directing the men to run out the boarding planks. .

By this time, Dr. Maturin was also on deck. "Be careful, Mr. Calamy," he admonished. "One wound is difficult enough to recover from; you cannot be sure with two or more."

"Understood Sir," Peter said before following Captain Aubrey over a boarding plank and to the Acheron. It seemed though by the looks of it that the situation was mostly under control; a slightly bedraggled Pullings was now helping the whalers and the Marines usher most of the Acheron's crewmen up towards the forecastle. Mowett, along with the rest of the Surprise's Marines and a lot of the other seamen, were also guarding this side, to make sure that the captured sailors would not attempt any mischief.

"Good to see you're safe, Captain Pullings. Where is the 'doctor' of this ship?" Captain Aubrey asked concernedly.

"We put him in the hold," Pullings replied. "Shall I take you to him?"

"Right away," Captain Aubrey said.

Suddenly Peter caught sight of a blood-spattered figure coming out of the quarterdeck hatchway. "Miss Hastings!" he shouted. At least it _looked_ like her, with her face and hands covered in crimson. She was only wearing her slip, which was also stained all over with blood.

Victoria took a deep breath on seeing him. "Next time we get into action, I'm fighting _above_ decks," she deadpanned. She wearily saluted Pullings and Captain Aubrey. "Good evening to you, Sir."

"Good Lord, what's happened to you?" Captain Aubrey asked. "You're hurt?"

"Just bruises, Sir. Wish I could say the same for the brute I left in one of the cabins," Victoria replied, still trying to catch her breath.

Peter felt quite ill on hearing this. All kinds of horrible scenarios were going through his mind, even as he took off his coat and draped it around Victoria's shoulders in an attempt to preserve her modesty. "Will you need help getting back to the Surprise?" he asked her concernedly.

She shook her head. "You go on and deal with Captain de Vigny. I'll see you later." It was clear she wanted to get away from the obviously astonished onlookers. Before Peter could say anything, she crossed back to the Surprise using a boarding plank.

Captain Aubrey looked to the midshipmen still on the Surprise. "Stand the men down, Mr. Boyle. Mr. Blakeney, tell Dr. Maturin to ready the sickbay and have Mr Hollar bring the boats in. Mr. Mowett and Mr. Calamy will secure the rest of the prisoners." He nodded to Pullings. "Let's finish this business, Tom."

Mowett glanced at Peter. "Looks like we have our work cut out for us."

Peter only nodded grimly. "Search the decks for any wounded, have them brought to the Surprise," he instructed Williamson and some of the whalers.

Mr. Howard nodded to Mowett. "We'll post guards in the crew's quarters?"

"That would be wise. Double them," Mowett advised.

"_And we have to parole this entire lot?" _Peter wondered silently. After this day, he was convinced that a great part of the Acheron's crew were not the sort he wanted to ever have running free in a port town like Valparaiso. However parole was the only feasible option; it was impractical if not dangerous to take all the prisoners as far as England.

Not a minute later, a rather aghast Williamson ran up. "Dead man downstairs, Sir," he reported. "Knife wounds all over him."

Peter had to do his best not to cringe, realizing now what must have transpired before Victoria had gone above decks. "Have him brought up so his body can be properly taken care of," he said. He did not even want to look at the corpse that was retrieved.

Eventually, Captain Aubrey and Pullings were able to extricate Captain de Vigny from the hold. "We had to lock him up separately," Captain Aubrey explained to his lieutenants as soon as they were all back aboard the Surprise later that night and having some tea in the gunroom. "It's a shame to do this; he fought well, but I simply cannot have any more people being threatened. That's why Mr. Howard has dispatched a few more of his Marines to help Captain Pullings and the crew keep the prisoners from trying anything till we get to Valparaiso."

"Which will be in a few days, thankfully. Too bad for the Doctor and finding his bird," Mowett said sympathetically. "I believe though that the Doctor and Miss Hastings have a matter to take care of in Valparaiso?"

"Some important documents," Peter replied.

At this point Dr. Maturin emerged from the sickbay. "Most of the injured from the Acheron are taken care of. Aside from a few cuts, scrapes and hard knocks, none of our crew really took any damage. Miss Hastings is badly battered and bruised all over, but she said it was because she took a hard tumble down the hatchway," he reported. "Fortunately she kept her head about her, but unfortunately that French crewman took the brunt of it."

Captain Aubrey nodded, clearly comprehending now what had happened to Victoria. "Does she need anything more to be comfortable?" he asked. "At any rate, she has to stay aboard the Surprise now, after what happened tonight."

"Nothing much, in the way of the physical comforts at least," Dr. Maturin said. "Anyway I have decided to help her see to that business we have in Valparaiso. It should not inconvenience anyone greatly."

After a little more talk about how to manage the voyage over the upcoming days, Peter took the opportunity to seek out Victoria. He found her sitting in sickbay, going over an old book. She had managed to wash up and change into a clean dress, but she still wore his coat. "I thought you'd be resting," Peter said to her by way of greeting as he found a seat near hers.

She looked up from her reading. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. She took a deep breath and sighed. "I know you're worried about me Peter, but I did get out of it fine."

Peter swallowed hard, unsure how to broach the topic. "Did that man..."

Victoria shook her head dispassionately. "He tried. Got as far as well, doing away with my best dress. Good thing I remembered to have my knife with me."

"Dr. Maturin said you fell down a hatchway?"

"That, and I had a knife to my throat, and nearly got throttled too."

Peter felt a cold fury settling in his gut. "_How could anyone do that to a lady?" _he thought. He could see the dark marks on Victoria's neck, clearly in the shape of a hand. "If you'd told me who'd done it, I would have let that man know precisely what I think of that sort of treatment," he said.

"I think being taken prisoner by Captain Aubrey is already a punishment enough," Victoria pointed out, her voice a little soft. She dabbed at her eyes, clearly trying to remain in control. "I've been in peril before, Peter, but this time it was closer than ever."

"Closer?"

"For the first time, I was afraid I wouldn't survive. I was only hoping to buy enough time till the Surprise arrived to intercept the Acheron. And I've never killed a man before. What does that make me now?"

Peter was unsure what to say to this, more so when Victoria could no longer hold back her tears. He reached out to touch her arm in hopes of reassuring her, but instead she clung to him, burying her face in his shirt as she cried. All he could do was to hold her to keep her from falling down, and just hope that no one was eavesdropping on them that night.

"You're safe now, Victoria. It's not going to happen again," he finally told her when she could stop sobbing. He was not sure this was the right thing to say, but he knew she needed some reassurance. "You'd also better get some rest; you've hardly had it at all this week."

She took a shaky breath. "I wish it were that simple," she murmured. "Don't leave me. I don't want to keep seeing it."

He nodded before adjusting his arms around her shoulders so that they would both be more comfortable. It took quite some time till Victoria had calmed down enough to agree to go to sleep, albeit in the sickbay. "What about you? You need to sleep too," she said when she handed him back his coat after she got into a hammock.

"I've had enough of it for the past few days," Peter replied dryly. "Sleep well."

She managed a light giggle. "You too, Peter. And thank you," she whispered before shutting her eyes.

Peter looked around the sickbay, realizing that only one hammock was put up. "_How did she ever manage to sleep in a chair?" _he wondered. At any rate, he no longer felt like sleeping either, not when there was quite a bit he had to think over that night.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Thanks to yasupoimegane for the review. I hope the last chapter wasn't too awkward or nausea-inducing. Anyway this story is winding down, and we're almost at the end of this yarn that reads as a cross between O'Brian's universe and Austen's. Only a few more chapters to go. _

**Chapter 20: En Route Home**

Over the next few days, life on the Surprise continued to fall back in its comfortable routine. Even with a number of men away on the prize crew of the Acheron, not much was lost in terms of the efficiency and discipline on the ship. Thanks to this and rather cooperative weather, they were within sight of Valparaiso that same week.

"A day later than we originally intended. At least it isn't much of a loss," Captain Aubrey remarked during one of his visits to Dr. Maturin's usual haunts. On this afternoon, both Will and Victoria were there, cleaning up and reworking sketches. "How long will you and Miss Hastings need to deliver your correspondence?"

"Three hours, maybe less," Dr. Maturin replied. "I imagine that it will take longer to stock up provisions for the trip back."

Captain Aubrey smiled by way of agreement. "How are you doing today, Miss Hastings?" he asked the young woman who was seated at the far end of the table.

"Better, Sir," Victoria replied, trying to keep a level tone. She knew that it was no secret that she had survived a harrowing night on the Acheron; in fact it had been the cause of talk and some questioning. However what she couldn't stand was how everyone, especially the officers and midshipmen, suddenly seemed either awkward or overly solicitous towards her following this incident. "_They mean well," _she reminded herself as she set her pen to the paper again.

As she turned in her seat, she tried her best not to wince. Every movement was still rather painful, thanks to the bruises all over her neck and back. "_If Will can get by with only one arm, and if even Peter is recovering from that horrible wound of his, you can take care of yourself too," _she reminded herself.

Captain Aubrey looked at Will. "You'll accompany the Doctor, Miss Hastings, and Padeen in Valparaiso. It always helps to have around a gentleman in uniform," he said to the midshipman.

A knock sounded on the sickbay door. "We're about to dock in Valparaiso, Sir," Boyle reported.

"Already?" Dr. Maturin said, looking down at his work. "Well, we'd best not delay. Miss Hastings, get the things we need. Mr. Blakeney, call Padeen. He should be up at the forecastle."

Victoria got up slowly from her seat. "Do I look presentable enough, Sir? I know we have to make an important call or two."

"Well enough," Dr. Maturin said. He made a motion for Victoria to adjust the cloth she wore around her neck to cover up the bruises there. "An actual scarf might attract less attention," he suggested after a moment.

"Perhaps," Victoria said before going to her berth to get some documents, as well as her usual shawl and hat. She couldn't help but silently curse de Vigny all over again for the rather obvious injuries he'd inflicted on her. "_At least the bruises will be long gone before we get to Portsmouth, so that ought to spare you some questions," _she thought as she found a light scarf. If only the same could be said for her nightmares.

When she got on deck, she could see the Acheron arriving in the cove ahead of the Surprise. "They also have a long day ahead of them, paroling the prisoners and all," she said to Dr. Maturin.

"Except for de Vigny, what officers he has left, and our friend Mr. Cunningham. They have to go back to England with Captain Pullings," Dr. Maturin explained. "And of course their refitting, but I believe they will proceed on their own schedule for that."

"Especially after what happened to the mainmast," Victoria said with a grin. She'd never forget the sight of that huge piece of timber crashing to the deck in the thick of battle.

A few minutes later, Dr. Maturin and his party disembarked, taking the cutter with them. "We can't do much trading in this port; it's still a Spanish colony," the doctor explained to Will and Victoria as they walked into the town proper.

"What exactly is a friend of yours doing in this village?" Victoria asked. The town was comparatively quiet, with a number of houses clustered around a church. It seemed a little odd for an agent to choose to hide in this place.

"He prefers to keep his ears and eyes here. It's a suitable arrangement," Dr. Maturin replied as they walked up to a rather squat house. He knocked twice and said something in Spanish before the door was opened.

Victoria had expected that this Mr. Perez, being a friend of Dr. Maturin's, would have been an old gentleman, perhaps with spectacles and a bent for naturalism. It was all she could do to contain her mild astonishment when the Doctor introduced a light-haired man who looked to be about the same age of Pullings and Mowett, with a large scar that sliced over most of the top half of his face. "War wound from before the Revolution," Mr. Perez explained in a thick English accent as he let the visitors into his abode. He talked easily enough with Dr. Maturin and Will, while he seemed a little unsure as to what to make of Victoria's presence. He did not disturb Padeen, who sat unobtrusively in a corner, drinking tea for the majority of their visit.

"We have some letters and papers for you, that we recovered from the Acheron," Dr. Maturin said, handing over the packet of documents that Victoria had prepared. "I hope the delay was not too detrimental."

Mr. Perez perused the papers and shrugged. "I was worried that I would be at a complete loss for these. How did you find them? I heard the Acheron was endangering every ship in these parts."

"We took her a few days ago," Will chimed in. "She's a prize of ours now."

The agent smiled. "That's good for Captain Aubrey then. There's talk though of a major French action being planned off Spain, but Lord Nelson will have that blocked, no doubt." He looked at Victoria keenly. "I get most of the English mail that comes into Valparaiso, and there's a letter for you here, Miss Hastings."

Victoria looked up, already feeling a little sore from having to sit up straight without respite. "From who?"

"A certain Commodore Michael Hastings. It came on a brig headed for the Marquesas."

"That's my father!" Victoria exclaimed, unable to contain her shock. It was not common for letters to be sent on the tail of anyone working on the far side of the world. "_Must be terribly important," _she realized as Mr. Perez handed her a thick letter.

"What is it?" Will asked her.

Victoria bit her lip. "Something like a list of bequests. My father has been working in the Mediterranean, and he fears that he will see action again soon. He will have to follow Lord Nelson's orders, whatever they may be. He's left a copy of this letter in London, but decided to send one for me anyway," she explained.

The missive was rather lengthy, listing to the smallest detail how the remaining assets and properties of the Hastings family were to be managed in the event the Commodore failed to return to England. Much to Victoria's annoyance, a paragraph in the letter read: "_Of course I know you will make good use of the arrangements I have set up for you, but it would be much better if you could be happily united with a gentleman who could help provide for you. Is there someone of your acquaintance from London, or even among the gentlemen in our Majesty's navy, who you feel inclined to? Or even, is there any gentleman among Captain Aubrey's officers you have your heart set on? If there is, write to me at once so that I may know how best to handle the situation." _

Meanwhile Dr. Maturin and Mr. Perez were continuing to discuss various affairs pertaining to the Navy's movements on that side of the Horn. Apparently the list that they had taken off the agent Cunningham was some cause for concern. "We'd better warn the agents in these parts, while you bring this information back to the Admiralty," Mr. Perez advised. "The French are penetrating deeper and deeper throughout the world even as we speak. If Bonaparte had his way, not even England would be able to withstand his threat."

"Thankfully there's water between us and him; it's always proved to be an effective deterrent," Victoria said thoughtfully.

"Let us hope it stays that way," Mr. Perez replied.

After some more pleasantries, Dr. Maturin made his goodbyes, wishing his old friend good health before ushering the young people and Padeen out and back to the Surprise. En route there, they managed to meet up with Pullings, who had just finished the task of arranging the parole of his prisoners. Unfortunately owing to the myriad matters he had to take care of, the captain could not allow himself longer than a short chat with his former shipmates.

Back on the Surprise, the crew was in rather high spirits owing to a renewed supply of provisions, prime among them being the rum. "We managed to find a good trader," Mowett explained when Victoria asked about it. "There are some plants you might be interested in, Doctor. They're covered in beetles. There are also some bolts of good cloth if you want them, Miss Hastings."

"I suppose I could use it. Thank you," Victoria said. Even after a good soaking, she had not been able to get the bloodstains out of the clothes she'd worn on the Acheron. "_I'm going to have to burn those rags," _she resolved, if only to help purge her mind of those hideous memories. Unfortunately when she entered the gunroom, where some of the goods had been stowed, she caught sight of Killick already looking through the different bolts of cloth.

"Keep away from those, Miss. These are for the Captain to give to Mrs. Aubrey," Killick warned.

"Mr. Mowett said I could have _some_ of the cloth," Victoria said. "Come now, I really need to make some sort of dress."

"You can find more elsewhere," the captain's steward retorted.

"I'm sorry, Killick, I insist," she said more firmly. "I could take up the matter with Mr. Mowett himself if you have any questions about it."

Killick muttered some curse under his breath before picking out a bolt of blue muslin and tossing it in her direction. "Here, you can have this."

"Thank you, Killick," Victoria said, snatching up the cloth before the cantankerous man could change his mind. She immediately put the bolt away in her room and then headed up to the gangway in order to get some fresh air.

Peter was already there, having just ended his watch. He smiled on seeing Victoria. "How was Valparaiso?" he asked candidly.

"A quiet town, and not entirely to my taste," she replied.

"You always preferred the noisier ports," he said. "Is your back still bothering you?"

"Not as often. Your wound?"

"Nearly healed. It hardly hurts nowadays."

She smiled as she brought out the letter she had stowed in her pocket. "My father wrote to me, and had the letter sent hoping it would find me. He fears he'll get embroiled in some action soon."

"That's not good. The French must be on the move then, heading out from Cadiz or Toulon," Peter pointed out.

"Rumor has it that the Spanish are set to join the French at sea. God help Lord Nelson," Victoria whispered, knowing that the men might be alarmed at such talk. "If we make it back to England before then, you might even find yourself seeing it."

"Well is that something to be afraid of?" Peter asked.

Victoria gave him a withering look. "You were so close to dying a few days ago, and you're talking about going into battle again."

"I prefer thinking that the odds will still be on our side if it comes to that," Peter said calmly. He ran a hand through his hair. "Is that all the news from home?"

"He writes a little about everyone. Will's mother is talking eternally about the Season in London, Mrs. Aubrey is eagerly awaiting the Captain's return, and your mother gets a special mention for her being eternally worried. How you will ever console her is beyond me," Victoria let out a long-suffering sigh, only imagining how her father had come across all these impressions and tidbits. "Then there's this; he even offered to engage in some matchmaking for me."

"If only he knew," he said with his tone somewhere between wry and jesting. "I suppose I'll have to talk with him when we get to Portsmouth."

She stared at him, wondering if she'd heard him correctly "_I shouldn't have mentioned that part of my father's letter," _she realized. She took a deep breath. "Exactly about what, Mr. Calamy?"

"My intentions where you are concerned," he said firmly, though it was clear that his face was more colored than usual.

"_Oh he really is serious," _she realized. " I do not mean to dissuade you, but do you really wish to do this, Peter? You're only nineteen and I'm sure that you will advance in the service and become a post captain. Your prospects will change, and you might find someone more suitable to you than a girl you first met in Gibraltar when you were twelve years old."

"Most definitely," Peter replied, giving her a kiss on her forehead. "And I don't think you could dissuade me, even if you tried."

"You're right," Victoria said. She could hear the strains of the violin and cello music coming from the Great Cabin, but the melody was not soft and sweet, but rather aggressive and even a little forceful. "_I'm going to miss this when we arrive back in England," _she thought as she reached for Peter's hand.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: One more chapter after this. _

**Chapter 21: Homecoming**

Following the stop at Valparaiso, the Surprise and the Acheron made an easier passage around the Horn, and sailed their way north-east towards Portsmouth. It was generally understood that the Acheron would arrive ahead of the Surprise, perhaps by a few days. "It will give Captain Pullings enough time to notify the prize court before we arrive," Captain Aubrey said once to his officers. After such a long trip, most of the men were more than eager for their pay and prize money, but it was naval practice for the men to stay aboard the ship till the matter of dividing the spoils was completely settled. This meant that even after docking, the men would still be detained in Portsmouth for an indefinite period of time, unless the prize court made up its decision quickly.

It was a rather brisk November morning when at last the Surprise arrived in Portsmouth. However to everyone's consternation, the town was somber, with many of the people wearing black ribbons and cockades. "Did someone die?" Captain Aubrey hailed a seaman he saw passing by.

The man nodded, clearly grieved by the news he had to give. "Lord Nelson was killed in battle, just off the coast of Spain. The news came yesterday."

The news was a blow to all who had heard it on the deck. "_Now we've lost one of England's finest," _Peter thought, feeling as if something heavy had suddenly dropped into his gut. Captain Aubrey was speechless, Dr. Maturin crossed himself, while Mowett was downcast. It didn't matter that thanks to chasing the Acheron, the Surprise had missed out in participating in what was certainly a glorious battle. Nothing at that moment measured up to the loss of a brave commander.

At that moment a carriage rumbled up to the dockside. "That's my father's," Victoria said all of a sudden. She waved to a rather heavyset, graying man who stepped out of the carriage. Commodore Hastings smiled by way of acknowledgment before boarding the ship.

"Glad to see you, Aubrey. Would it have been under better circumstances. Good to see you too, Mr. Mowett, Mr. Calamy, Dr. Maturin," Commodore Hastings greeted the officers cordially. "Now how's my daughter doing?"

"Very well," Victoria replied, giving her father a brief hug. She adjusted the ribbon tha held back her hair, which had yet to grow out past her shoulders."I got your letter by chance, in Valparaiso. How did you ever manage it?"

"Well there was a brig, the Danae, being sent on a mission there so I asked the captain to carry it along," Commodore Hastings said. He turned to Captain Aubrey again. "I saw Lieutenant-or should I say now Captain Pullings at the Admiralty. That was how I learned you would be arriving soon. He's had the prize court in an uproar; over five hundred thousand pounds from that Frenchie! Congratulations to you all."

Peter was astounded at the sum. "_That's got to be at least several hundred pounds each for the boys and seamen here!" _he thought, making a quick estimate of it. The crew was entitled to two-eighths of the prize money, to be divided among each man and boy. As for him, he could expect to get at least ten thousand pounds, owing to his position as a lieutenant. It would be more than enough to provide for his mother and settle whatever debts and deficiencies had accumulated at home during his absence.

"Victoria, gather your belongings. After I finish my errand at the Admiralty here in Portsmouth, we will head straight to London," Commodore Hastings said to his daughter. "Your aunts are quite upset with you having missed another Season there."

"Actually I believe they do not need to be," Victoria replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"_Well best to clear up the matter straightaway," _Peter decided. "Commodore Hastings, I need to speak with you about a rather important matter," he spoke up as calmly as he could manage.

The Commodore glanced from Peter to Victoria before smiling knowingly. "I'm busy, but I can make time for this," he said to Peter. "Why don't you accompany us to the Admiralty? I believe Captain Aubrey will also be headed there."

Victoria cleared her throat. "I should help the Doctor with some business of his," she said, glancing at Dr. Maturin. "It might take a while, so I suppose I'll meet you at the Admiralty," she said politely to the Commodore.

The Commodore paused, as if weighing this idea. "That should be fine. Don't take too long about it."

Peter gave Victoria a smile of gratitude. He knew that the logical pretext for this was that Victoria and Dr. Maturin had to bring to Sir Joseph Blaine all the documents and information they had recovered from the Acheron or during the course of the voyage. "_She's stepping out of the way to give me a chance to talk with her father properly," _he knew.

Captain Aubrey clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Come on, we'd best get going," he said. Once they were out of Commodore Hastings' hearing, he broke into a smile. "My congratulations in advance, Mr. Calamy. I know that he will not refuse to give his daughter's hand," he said in an undertone.

"I hope that will be so," Peter replied. He was glad to have Captain Aubrey's support on the matter; the man had been like a father to him since his days as a midshipman. He stopped in his cabin only to get his best coat; he would have to return to the ship anyway to see to the matter of the prize money and to help Captain Aubrey and Mowett see to any remaining repairs and necessities. As he stepped out of his berth, he noticed Victoria also moving her own belongings from her cabin. She was wearing a new blue dress that she'd made from the bolt of cloth she'd managed to acquire after the trip to Valparaiso.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said, stepping forward to help her lift her sea chest.

She laughed as she adjusted her grip on the sea chest. "It only seems like yesterday when we were first readying for the voyage." She motioned for him to set down the box in a corner. "Good thing the latter half of the voyage was easier on us. I never thought I'd get to know you better that way."

"A lot less drama thankfully," he agreed. While he once had found ordinary shipboard life monotonous, he had been happy to resume it in the weeks following the capture of the Acheron. Aside from the fact that he was actually alive and well, he had been glad for the opportunities to be with his friends and with Victoria without fear of losing them to some enemy fire. "_If only life on shore would also give us that," _he thought.

She sighed. "I think given the recent news, this might be the only time I'll get to be aboard a ship with you."

"Maybe it will not be," Peter said, clasping her hand. He felt that her fingers were now slightly callused and rougher than when they had been months and months ago. He kissed her gently, making sure not to linger lest someone notice them. "I'll see you later at the Admiralty?"

She nodded as she adjusted his collar. "You have my word," she said before lifting the chest again. After they brought her belongings to her father's carriage, they parted ways; Victoria was to accompany Dr. Maturin to Sir Joseph Blaine's lodgings, while the Surprise's officers and Commodore Hastings went straight to the Admiralty.

The Admiralty's headquarters was abuzz with news when they arrived. Captain Pullings was already waiting there rather anxiously. "You've heard the news about Lord Nelson?" he asked by way of greeting.

"We have. To think only recently we were toasting his health and triumphs," Peter replied ruefully. He could still remember all too vividly the dinner during which Captain Aubrey had regaled them with anecdotes about his time serving under Lord Nelson. Was it really that long ago?

"Still his victory means the end of the French and Spanish moving towards England, at least for some time," Pullings pointed out before they all had to see to various affairs. It was decided that the prize money for the Surprise's men would be given out within the next few days, so as to allow the officers and the men to return to their families at the soonest possible time. There was the question too of making sure that the prize money would also go to the families of Mr. Allen, Nagle, Doudle, Warley, Hollom, and every other person who had perished during the voyage. At any rate, it seemed as if the men of the Surprise would still be in Portsmouth for at least a week.

Despite this rather irritating development, Peter tried to remain in good spirits as he went to speak to Commodore Hastings. He found the man waiting for him at a table in a small tavern near the Admiralty office. "I must admit, Mr. Calamy, I was wondering _when_ you would finally come to me about this matter," Commodore Hastings said after the lieutenant greeted him.

"I'm not sure I quite understand what you mean, Sir," Peter said as he took a seat. He did have a suspicion that he and Victoria had been the subject of some gossip recently, but he was not about to bring up the matter himself.

The Commodore laughed softly to himself before ordering two glasses of rum. "I've always liked the idea of a match between you and my daughter. You two have always been particular friends, almost from the day that you were introduced to each other while we were all at Gibraltar. How many years ago was that?"

"A little more than seven years ago, Sir," Peter replied, taking a small sip of the rum. He had to keep a straight face at the taste; it was far stronger than the sort he was used to.

Commodore Hastings nodded pensively. "A lot has happened since then: my sending her to Boston to be with her mother, having to bring her back, and now this business with her being all over the Mediterranean doing heavens knows what for the Crown. You've seen the world too, and now you're a lieutenant. Probably will be a fine captain too in a few years. You would definitely make your late father proud."

"A lot of it was providence, I should think," Peter mused. He could even overlook the reference to his deceased father; nowadays the sting at the mention of him was beginning to lessen.

"I don't believe in that. A man makes his own luck, and you're doing fine by that," the older man said before knocking back a large swallow of rum. "At least your proposal would solve some worries I've had. I'm not a young man anymore and I cannot provide for her forever. Also, there is only so much that a good name can do for her; I trust she has been respectable all this while aboard the Surprise, but I do wish to silence the rumors." He put down his half-empty glass "I doubt though you'd be able to completely stop my daughter from her work; she has a devilish way of getting into people's business, especially when you don't want her to be there."

"I should know," Peter said with a laugh. "But I'll do my best to protect her."

"If she'll allow you," Commodore Hastings pointed out with a smile. "I know you wouldn't be here if you didn't make her happy and she didn't like you. I've seen her turn down men before and rather viciously at that. The question would be more if _you_ feel the same way about her."

"We are rather plain with each other, and I've always had a special regard for her, Sir," Peter replied. "It took me some time to realize that it went far beyond mere friendship." There was no need to mention now how Victoria had saved his life; that was a story best left for another day.

Commodore Hastings paused as if considering his words. "You'll have quite a life ahead of you, Mr. Calamy. I give you my permission and even my blessing to marry my daughter, but I must also wish you good luck. Hopefully your life with her will be happier than mine was with her mother."

"Thank you Sir," Peter said, shaking the Commodore's hand. He could not trust himself to express his happiness and relief at this turn of events. "Do you wish to speak with her first, or may I break the news to her myself?"

Commodore Hastings looked at his watch. "The second, but I need to speak with her anyway. There are some matters I wrote to her about and I must clarify with her. Before I forget, I only ask that you and Victoria set the date of your wedding _before_ the Surprise leaves on its next mission."

"_That won't be much of a problem," _the lieutenant thought. After thanking his future father-in-law again, he excused himself to see if he was already being looked for at the Admiralty by his fellow officers or by Victoria. There was still much he had to see to before the day was out.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Final chapter up! Thanks to The Teal Rose and yasupoimegane for their reviews!_

**Chapter 22: Don't Forget Your Old Shipmates**

The year 1806 opened with sufficient merriment, but which was soon dampened by a most necessary funeral. It was in January of this year that Lord Nelson's funeral was held at last, before he was interred in Saint Paul's Cathedral.

"We'll never see the likes of him again," Victoria mused over breakfast the next day at the Blakeney family's lodgings in London. The Blakeneys had invited a number of Will's friends to stay with them while they paid their respects to the late Lord Nelson. It was just as well, since the Surprise was set to sail again in a few days. "_The big battle may be won but the war still continues," _she thought as she rubbed her eyes. It was not even eight o'clock in the morning, but already some people such as Captain Aubrey had to see to some errands concerning the upcoming voyage.

"You never know what might happen with Mr. Blakeney here. He's off to a good start," Boyle said as he put down his cup of tea.

"Enough of that, Mr. Boyle," Mowett said reprovingly. "So your mother finally is amenable to you joining us again, Mr. Blakeney?"

Will nodded happily, taking care not to get crumbs all over his shirt. "Captain Aubrey and Peter had to convince her that I would do well in this trip and that we weren't chasing another frightening ship like the Acheron.

"She was more worried about that than things like tropical fever," Peter chimed in.

"The latter I believe is the more prevalent danger, but there are ways of preventing it from taking hold on a ship. You might remember the precautions we took while sailing to India a few years ago, Mr. Calamy," Dr. Maturin said rather seriously. "But you'll have the chance for to see some astonishing birds, Mr. Blakeney, maybe a new species if you're that lucky."

"_Though Lady Blakeney does have cause to be worried; they're protecting merchant ships that have to sail past the Mauritius," _Victoria thought as she took a sip of her tea. Though the waters surrounding Africa were relatively familiar territory for the old hands on the Surprise, there was no telling what could happen in the voyage.

"_You're going to have to get used to this," _she reminded herself as she finished her tea. Even so, she couldn't help but feel that the past two months had gone by a bit too quickly. She glanced at the ring on her finger and suppressed a sigh. "_I'm not used to being left waiting," _she told herself.

"So will Captain Aubrey be taking on any new midshipmen this voyage?" she asked finally if only to keep her mind on happier thoughts.

"One or two maybe, though I think that the three of us are already enough," Williamson said, nearly elbowing Boyle. "Is it true that Captain Pullings is being given a ship?"

"He was promised the Aurora. It's a fine ship, as old as the Surprise but said to be faster," Mowett replied. "It's a good assignment, though I think we'll all miss having him with us."

"You'll get your own ship too soon, Mr. Mowett," Victoria said. It was not easy to acquire a promotion in the Navy, especially with all the politics and patronage within the Admiralty. Still she could hope for the best owing to the reputation and skill of the officers of the Surprise.

A servant stopped at the entrance of the breakfast room. "There's a letter for Mrs.-"

"That will be me," Victoria said, getting up from her seat. She had to hide her smile on seeing that the letter was from Sir Joseph Blaine, much like one that Dr. Maturin had received earlier in the week. "_What will I have to do next?" _she wondered as she opened the missive.

She had to hide her smile on seeing the mission set before her. "_Seems as if it's time to find out who's selling out our merchant ships to the French at that side of the world," _she thought. By apprehending Cunningham last year, they had eliminated a threat to some of the English forces near Cape Horn, but that did not stop more of his kind from continuing their work in the area, or in other parts of the world. "_This is probably going to be more complicated than the mission to the Pacific," _she realized as she returned to her seat at the table.

"What was that about?" Peter asked her cautiously.

"I'll explain later," she said, aware of Dr. Maturin already giving her a knowing look. She knew he had been given the same mission as well. "It's a private matter," she added, emphasizing this in order to stave off the questions that were sure to follow from the rest of the group.

As soon as breakfast was over, Victoria followed Peter up to the room that they shared. This was a discussion she knew that was best kept private. "I'm going to the Mauritius too," she said as soon as he shut the door.

He gave her a wry smile as they sat on the bed. "I knew that."

"You did? How?"

"Captain Aubrey asked me about it, last night actually."

Victoria crossed her arms. "And what did you have to say about it?"

Peter sighed. "Naturally I had my reservations. I've been to that part of the world, Victoria, and I know how dangerous it is. Ultimately though, the choice lies with you and your superiors."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Even after all these months, Peter couldn't help but be rather protective. "Exactly what did you say then?"

"I told him to take it up with _you_," he replied. "I suppose he skipped that step and simply told Sir Joseph Blaine that he could put an agent aboard the Surprise, again."

"You'd be perfectly within your rights to refuse to allow me to go," she pointed out. "And very much within the rules too."

"In some cases, wives of officers have been allowed to sail aboard a man-of-war," Peter said.

"Wives of _warrant_ officers like the bosun and the gunner. But not usually the wife of a commissioned officer such as a lieutenant."

"Usually being the word, Victoria."

Victoria would have teased him for bending the rules till she realized what Peter was actually saying. "So you want me to come with you?" she asked.

"I would like that, but I know it exposes you to a lot of danger," he admitted.

"Danger, I can handle. What I can't handle is waiting idle in England or some port, wondering what more I can do," she said. "I've been at sea for a big part of my life, Peter. I can't imagine being anywhere else unless it's for a very good reason."

"Like the war being over?"

"Yes, that would have been one. Then we'd both be safe."

"But you wouldn't like that, not completely."

"Depends on how my taste for adventure will be by that time."

He laughed a little at this. "And I thought I was the only one counting the days till the Surprise's next assignment. I honestly found these past two months on shore to be rather tedious; I've never been quite easy on land. The only thing I was dreading when it came to leaving again was telling you to stay behind."

"A good thing this bit of news will spare you the heartache," Victoria said more lightly. "It's going to be an adventure sailing with you again, Mr. Calamy."

"Likewise, Mrs. Calamy," Peter retorted before kissing her. "Well we were supposed to leave London today and finish getting affairs in order. We'd best get packing."

"I knew there was another reason you wanted me upstairs," Victoria laughed, opening the closet to begin getting their things.


End file.
